Train for a better Job!
STUDY CHEMISTRY
The field with a future!
MR. CHARLES W. SUTTLE, of Forgan,
Okla. {at Icfi oft- toP), is deeply interested in
chemical research. He performs his experimental
“ivork in hts welt-equipped home laboratory.
.MR. O. T. D. BRANDT, of Seattle, IVash.
{center photography, is an analyticat chemist of
demonstrated ability. In his home he has equip-
ped a laboratory containing several thousand
dollars* worth of equipment, bought entirely with
earnings from spare-time work while he was
takina our course,
MR. VIRGTL^ REDGATE, of Hutchinson,
Kans. (bottom right-hand photoy, began doing
professional analysis on commission, even before
he completed his course. He is also the inventor
of several devices and processes used in photog-
raphy.
CHEMICAL INSTITUTE OF NEW YORK. Inc.
Home Extension Division
19 Park Plaee. New York. N. Y.
Please send me at once, without any obliga*
tion on ray pan. your Free Rook. "Oppor
(unities for Chemists." and full particulars
about the Experimental Equipment eiren to
every student. Also please tell me about your
plan of payment and the reduction in the
tuition price.
NAME
ADDRESS
City • state
WQ-3
CHEMICAL INSTITUTE OF NEW YORK, Inc.
19 Park Place New York, N. Y.
W HY should you spend your life in
the hopeless rut of ttie untrained
workman? You know that it holds
no prospects for you. and -some day when you realize
that you have gained notlilng for your years of labor,
it will be too late to pull yourself out. NOW is the
time to guarantee your future by getting into Chem-
istry — the one fleid (hat offers you boundless op|X)r-
tunities for a comfortable living, an enjoyable occupa-
tion. wcaltli and even fame.
No Previous Experience
Required
Do not think that you are barred from this attractive
profession by lack of education. THE C'HE.M1C.\L
IN'.STITL’TE has taught thousands of young men, many
of whom had no previous schooling of any kind. We
can train you thoroughly, and may even get you your
first job. The celebrated course whlcli we give is
siraplitied to such a point that anyone can learn who
is able to read and write English. All we ask is
interest in the work and willingness to devote your
spare hours to it conscientiously.
The cour.se is simple to understand and enjoyable
to study, but it dues nut skim over the essentials.
You will get just as thorough instruction as If you
look the same sulijccts in college, but It will be
easier to grasp us well us far more convenient and
inexivensive. No texl-bonk cuuhl bo as explicit and
readily understiwd as our lessons. Many professional
clMjmists usQ. -them-- in Undr" own refgrenpc libraries.
And in addition the” personal .s’ertTces of able In-
structors will be yours ut all times to help you. step
by step, continually.
Learn at Home in Spare Time
Rut u Chemistry ^tudcilt has to get practical. trutn-
Ing with laboratory npiiaiatus! So> he doe.s, but we
furnish you with the c(|uipment lieedeil to <lo your
e.\perimentul work ut liouic. You do not have to give
up your present work while leuniing or jeave home to
attend classes. All your study uml experiments can
l)e done In your spare time. If you have very little
leisure, we can accommodate you anyway, as every
student is taught Individually and may take as much
lime as he needs to complete tfie course. Even then
he is entitled to specialized training and to the free
services of our instructors a.s long as* he wishes.
Not an Industry In tlic world— not a factory, mine,
mill, ranch or ptanintiuii can get along will out the
sendees of chemists. Chemistry is utllize<I every-
where. and so many new lines of business invotving
('hemistry are springing U]) daily that there Is an
actual shortage of men sufTiciently trained to All the
best positions.
Extra Laboratory Equipment
Supplied Free
There is absolutely no extra charg« for the compre-
hensive laboratory set which we furnish every student.
This laboratory contains over one hundred pieces of
apparatus and chemicals.
With this portable laboratory you can duplicate famous
historical experiments. Think of all the pleasure it will
give you! You will really be learning while playing.
MAIL THIS COUPON
TODAY
FOR FREE BOOK!
Tuition Price Reduced
Effective this month we have reduced the tuition
fee, so that this Kplcudld course and c<|ulpment are
within the means of every individual who Is Interested
In following Chemistry, vvlioiluT as a career or merely
as a hobby. Fee can be- paid on EASY .MO.NTHLY
TERJIS. The one price covers everj'lhing. There are
no extras to buy.
Plenty of Money in Chemistry
Why talk about hard times and lack of opportunities
when Chemistry offers you a rich variety of ways to
make a fortune? Every day the papers contain news
of fresh discoveries in (’hemistry, and for every one
you read about, there are lumdreils not recorded as
news because their ijiterest Is purely technical. The
manufsfeture of steel and other metals, of glass, [lottery,
soap, perfumes. , fertilizers, dyes, drugs, celluloid and
explosives— ^pape’r making, the tanning of leather, tlie
refining of sugar— dairying, meat piicklng. preserving,
sugar refining, and the pretiaratlon of hutidre<ls of
food proflucts — all these and a multitude of other
activities engage the skill of a cliemlral army. Don’t
you think there Is room for you also?
Chemists are well-paid employees and eacli one has
the opportunity of discovering new chemical secrets with
a literal fortune as his reward. Kv^iy one of the
lines of business in any way connected with Chemistry
— and you can .see that there are thousands of them-
has brought wealth to the many chctnlais who were
associated with its development. Are you going to
throw away your chances for the same reward, when
schooling in ('hemistry can be so easy and delightful
us it Is through mir course?
No Exaggerated Claims
This Institute docs not claim tliat cveiy chemist
makes millions; nor do we guarantee that yuu will
Immediately get a job paying $10,000 a yea^ But
many have done it and there Is no reason why you
cannot do it also.
Get a Start Today!
If you would like to know more about Chem.iatry,
and If you are sincere in your desire to get out of
the rut and If you have ambition enough to want to
become a famous chemist some day, you will not wait
DIPLOMA AWARDED EVERY GEADUATE
L'i,on graduation every .'tudeut i» awarded our
liiploina In Chemistry, certifying that he has succc's-
fully completed his studies. Your name on this cer-
tificate will be a soun-e of pride to you all your life
ii- well as an aid in obtaining a position.
'CecTS
IFALL 1930
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
1
ay
to get into ELECTRICITY
Don’t spend your life waiting for $5 raises In a dull, hopeless job. Now . . . and
forever . . . say good-bye to 25 and 35 dollars a week. Let me show you how
to qualify for jobs leading to salaries of $50, $60 and up, a week, in Eledtrici^
—NOT by correspondence, but by an amazing way to teach, IWGHT HEBLE
IN THE GREAT COYNE SHOPS. You become a pradtical expert in 90 days!
Getting into Eledxicity is far easier than you imagine!
Learn Mfhout Lessons in QOmts
By Actual Woiic— in the Great Stops ttf Coyne
Lack of experience — age, or ad'
vanced education Sara no one.
I don’t care if yon don't know
an armatore from an air
brake — I don't ex^t yon
tol I don’t care if you’re
16yearsoldor48 — it makes
nodifference I Don 'tlet lack
of money Bt^ you. Mostof
the men at Coyne have no
more money than yon have.
Railroad Fare
Allowed
I will allow yonr railroad
fare to Chicago, and if yon
should need part-time work
I’ll assist von to it. 'Then,
in 12 brief weeks, in the
rest roaring shops of
Shops
lyne
Pre par e tar Jobs
Uke Tbeec
Bare are a few of Imndredi of
.roployn
barean gfvee yoo lifetiiBe
ployme&t eenriae.
AnnatnreBxpert, to nco a Wk.
SobatatiM Operator
Sw a We^ and op
Aoto Eleetndaa CIO * Week
Inventor UoBmiM
Maintenaoce Engineer
op to $150 a Week
0 »f ie e Statkm Ow^
op ColSOOa Week
Radio Expert up to $100 a Week
real batteries . . . winding real
armatures, operating real mo-
tors, dynamos and generators,
wiring houses, etc., etc.
'That’s a glimpse of how
wemakeyon a master prac-
tical electrician in 90 days,
teaching you far more than
the average ordinary elec-
trician ever knows and fit-
ting yon to step into jobs
leading to big pay immedi-
ately after graduation.
Here, in this world-famous
Parent school — and no-
where else in the world —
can yon get this training!
Jote'Paj'Fmiire
Dent’ wo^ about a job,
Coyne trainiiffi settles the
job question for life. De-
mand for Coyne men often
exceeds the sni^ly. Our
great
Coyne, I trauTyou as you
never dreamed yen could
be trained on a gigantic
ontiay of electrical appa-
ratus . . . costing hundreds
of thousands of dollars . . . real
dynamos, engmes, power plants,
antes, Bwitchboards, transmitting
stations . . . everytifing from door-
bells to farm power and lighting
. . . full-sized ... in full operation
every day I
lfoBook8«NoPfiiitedLesttiis
No books, no baffling charts ... all
real actim work . . . rig^t here in
the g;reat Coyne school . . . building
COYNE B. C. LEWIS, Ptcs. EstoUMMXSW |
500 S. Paulina Street • Dept. 70-99 * Chieage, Ullneis |
NowiaOor
New Heme
This is oor new, fire-
proof , nMxlern homo
wher^ is installed
thonsands of dol*
lars* worth of the
newest and most
modem Electrical
Bqai pmentof allkiada.
Every comfort and
coaveoienee has been
arrsiiged to make yon
h*ppy mud cootseted
dorug year traiaing.
employment barean gives you a lifetime
service. Two weeks after graduation,
Clyde F. Hartrot a position as electrician
for the Great Western Railroad at over $100
a week. That’s not unnsual. We can point
to Coyne men making np to $600 a month.
$60 a week is only the beginning^of vour op-
portunity. You can go into ra&>, battery,
or antomotive electrical bnsiness for your-
self and make up to $16,000 a year.
GET THE FACTS
Coyne is yonr one great chance to get into
electricity. Every obstacle is removed.
'This school is 30 years old— Co^e train-
ingis tested— proven beyond alldoubt- en-
dorsed by many large electrical concerns.
Yon can find out everything absolutely
free. Simply mail the coupon and let me
send yon tne big, firee Cojrne book of 160
photc^^phs . . . facts . . . jobs . . . salaries
. . , opportnnttiaB. TeRs yoa how
manjeam expenses while train-
liig end bow we esaist oar grad-
uetee in the field. ThiedoMDOt
obligate Ton. So act at once.
Just mad coopoo.
Get THU
FREE BoaHl
ELECTRICAL SCHOOL
Mr. a. C. UWn, PreMdrat
COTNBBLKTBICAL SCHOOL, Ssft. TO’W
»— S. Veail— t.. Chief e. III.
Dear lb. Lewie:
WlthoatobUsatlaaeendineToar fair tree ealalosaad
all dataile of Railroad Fare to Cbieaco. Fro. Emplor-
ment Service. Badle. Avlatleo ElcctriciW. ead Aat^
■aUve Caaracs, and bow I can "earn while l.ernlnr **
Name.
Addreei..
Cits
.Stats. I
rjilii*
PUBUCATION OFFICE:
404 North Wesley Ave., Mt. Morris, IlL
Published by
STELLAR PUBLISHING CORPORATION
H. GERNSBACK, Pres.
I. S. MANHEIMER. Sec’y S. GERNSBACK, Treas.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
By Otfrid von, Hanstein
{Translated by Francis Currier)
stranded on the desolate moon, facing a terrible death — ^these
three men struggle on. Madnese creiit slowly upon them
• . • and then came the flaming messenger from the sky • • •
AN ATOMIC ADVENTURE
By William Lemkin, PhJ),
A world of danger, and sudden death was their lot , • , mil-
lions of years passed . . . and then release and a new and
glorious future ...
THE ISLAND OF TERROR
By Ransome Sutton 80
Alone, the coward faced the terrors of the Island, All the
freaks of nature crowd in upon him, and then at last
the terrible loupgaroa • • •
THE STRUGGLE FOR NEPTUNE
By Henrik Dahl Juve 94
Master of a million monster beasts a single human carries
on the straggle for a gigantic planet. And when the egg*
shaped Martians came • • •
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
By R. Crossley Arnold 106
His iH>wer was that of the past and the present. From
Egypt’s Pharaoh on, he labored in secret. And now upon a
helpless world the scourge was to come • • •
THE REVENGE OF THE CHOSEN
By Thomas H. Knight ___128
In his delirium, came the smell of airplane *’dope*’ ; and as he
fought off that hypnotic madness, there came gradually the
truth • • •
OUR COVER ILLUSTRATION
shows a scene from Hanstein’s “Between Earth and
Moon.” We see our doomed interplanetary travelers
watching in fear as the flaming messenger from the sky
hits the moon. But “it’s an ill wind,” as they say, and
this heavenly projectile may yet be the means of saving
them.
FALL
1930
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLT— Entered 88 second-eUas mat-
ter September IS, 1929, at the Post Office at Mount Morris, Il-
linois, under the act of March 3, 1879. Title registered U. 8.
Patent Office. Trademarks and copyrights by permission of
Gemsback Publications, Inc., 98 Paris Place, New York City,
owner of all trademark rights. Copyrigm, 1930, by Gemsbadc
FublicatloDS, Inc> Text and illustrations of this magaaine are
copyrighted and must not be reproduced without permission of
the owners. *■
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY is poblisbed on the 15th day
of September, Decemhor, March and Jene, 4 numbers per year.
Subscription price is $1.75 a year in United States and its
possessions. In Canada and fmreign eoontries, $2.00 a year.
Single copies 50o. Address all editorial eommunleatlons to Edi-
tor. WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY, 96-98 Park Place. New
YonL PuUlshers are not responsible for lost Msi. Contrlbutimis
STELLAR
cannot be returned unless authors remit full postage.
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY is for sale at principal news-
stands in the United States and Canada. Printed in U. 8. A.
IF YOU WISH TO SUBSCRIBE TO WONDER STORIES
quarterly, make out all remittances to the Stellar Publish-
^g Cmrp. Be sure to mention the name of magasine you wish
to subscHbe tor, as we are also agents for the followtaig msga-
nlfles: RADIOCRAFT, WONDER STORIES, and AMAZING DE-
TECTIVE TALES. Subscriptions can be made in combination
with the above publications, pt a reduced club rate. Ask for
information. Subscriptions st art with current issue. WPffiN
YOUR SUBSCRIPTION EXPIRES, we enclose a renewal blank
in the last number. No subaerlptlons eontinoed unless renewal
remittance received.
Change of address: Always give us old as well as new address
_ and notify us as far in advance as possible.
PUBLISHING CORPORATION
Publlctlon OfiM. 404 N. Wetlty Am., Mt. Mwrii, lllln,l<. EOltmial tntf e«n«nl OMiei. N-Oa Park Pbw, Hn York CHp
.m .« ... l••ndon: Haehette & Cle.,
2
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
3
Amazingly Easy
toIeamBADIOr
IMKING PICTURES
Don’t spend your life slavinsr away in some dull, hopeless job! Don’t be satisfied to work for a mere
$29 or $3* a week. Let me show yon bow to make REAL MONEY IN RADIO— THE FASTEST*.
GROWING, BIGGEST MONEY-MAKING GAME ON EARTH!
Thonsands of Jobs Open Paying $60, $70 to $200 a Wedc,
Jobs as Designer, Inspector and Tester paying $3,000 to $10,000 a year— as Radio Salesman and in
Service and Installation Work, at $45 to $100 a week — as Oiperator or Manager of a Broadcasting
Station, at $1,800 to $5,000 a year — as Wireless Operator on a Ship or Airplane, as a Talking Picture
or Sound Expert— THOUSANDS OF JOBS PAYING $60, $70 AND ON UP TO $200 A WEEK!
£mm WlthmtIhs(msi^W\k^
ByActual\lbdk»Iii die CSueat Cbyne
You learn ALL branches of Radio at Coyne — in 8
short, pleasant weeks — NOT BY CORRESPON-
DENCE, but by actual work on actual Radio, Televi-
sion and Sound equipment. We don’t waste time on
useless theory. We give you just the pradtical train-
ing you’ll need— in 8 weeks’ time.
NoBookS'NoLessons
Alt RracHeat Worli at Coyne
Coyne is NOT a Correspondence School. We don’t
teach you from books or lessons. We train you on the
greatest outlay of Radio, Television and Soimd ^uip-
ment in any school — on scores of modem Radio R^
ceivers, huge Broadcasting equipment, the very latest
JENKINS Television apparatus, Talking Picture and
Sound Reproduction equipment, Code Practice equip-
ment, etc. You don’t need advanced education or pre-
vious experience. We give you— right here in the
Coyne Shops— all the actual practice and experi-
ence you’ll need.
ment! Learn Television at COYNE on the very latest
JENKINS Television equipment.
Tat1{^n^ Pictures a Great Field
Talking Pictures and Public Address Systems offer
thousands of golden opportunities to the Trained Ra-
dio man. Here is a great new field of Radio that has
just started to gro^l Prepare NOW for these mar-
velous opportunities! Learn Radio Sound Work at
Coyne, on adhial Talking Pidture and Sound Re-
produdion equipment.
COYNE IS 31 YEARS OLD
Don’t worry about a job! Coyne Training settles the
job question for life. You get Free Employment
Help as long as you live. And if you need part-time
work while at school to help pay expenses we’ll gladly
help you get it Coyne is 31 years old! Coyne Train-
ing is tested — proven beyond all doubt You can find
out everything absolutely free. JUST MAIL COU-
PON FOR MY BIG FREE BOOK.
TELEVISION fe on the way
And now Television is on the way! Soon there’ll be
a demand for THOUSANDS of TELEVISION EX-
PERTS! The man who leams Television NOW can
make a FORTUNE in this great new field. Get in on
the ground-floor of this amazing new Radio develop-
H. C. Lewis. Pre». Radio DivisiOtt FoamM 1 S »9
COYNE ELECTRICAL SCHOOL
SOO 8- Panlliui St-* Dept. ?e-sc, CMcagOt in.
H. C. LEWIS, PRESIDENT
Radio Division, Coyne Electrical School
see 8. PanHaa St., DcH7e*SC,CMeag*, in.
Send me your Big Free Radio Book and all details of yoor
Special Introductory Offer. This does not obligate me in any
way.
Name
Address .
City
State.
4
WONDER STORlE§ QUARTERLY
M. J. Monlstoo* Parkeith
burs.W.Va. (pbotoatrig^
never had aday'eea^erience
on cars before starting my
tralnlns. Read what he says
when less than bsJf-way
thronjii his “JOB-WAY*
course. “What 1 have al-
ready learned Is worth oves
$500 to me. I have gone into
business and l*m making
over $50 a week dear, with
wonderful prospects.’* And
what Mr. Morriston and
hundreds of others have
done 1 will help yon to dol
INCLUDED
start to Make
Moaey ftolek
like Morrlatof
The World*s biggest,
most fas^aUng badness needs you!
You needn’t slave away at small wages another
minute — mail coupon and Til tell you how I train
you at home in your spare time for positions' paying
up to $150 a week. Unlimited opportunities for
trained Electrical and Mechanical Auto Experts.
Let me show you how my "JOB-WAY” training
has prepared hundreds of men just like yourself
f«' a quick, brilliant success in the Auto business.
Earn Up to $1S0 a Week!.
Don’t sell your time for low pay! You don’t need to
when you have my "JOB-WAY” training. As
Directing Engineer of this Institution I know what
training you need to succeed, AND I GIVE YOU
THAT TRAINING right in your own home. MAS-
TER every branch of Auto, Truck and Tractor work.
I train you with JOBS — mot books. I bring the
Original '^JOB-WAY” training TO YOUR HOME!
No Otker “JOB-WAY” Trainingt
My training includes ALL Electrical work
— Ignition, Starting, Lighting — ^ALL Me-
chanical end, Welding, Brazing, Vulcaniz-
ing — also Business Course — also Monthly
Magazine, also STesting
and Repair Outfits. No-
where else I know of,
can you get ALL this!
Seven Billion dollars
8
AVIATION
TrolniMg ntEE
eS oktra «o«t
Bead My
Agreement!
Ten agreements in my
big free Auto book.
No. 1 is “I will refund
every cent of your
money if after receiv-
ing my training you are
not atraolutely satisfied.'*
This and nine other
wonderful agreements
make my "JOB- WAY’*
course the training for
youl Be sure to get my
book and read all ten
agreements.
Experience, Education
Not Needed!
1 don’t care how little schooling
you have, I will train ^ou to be-
come an Auto Mechanic or re-
fund your moncyl Boys and
men of all ages have become
Garage owners and managers.
Superintendents, Foremen, Auto
Experts* BIG PAY executives,
after completing Cooke "JOB-
WAY** training. I prove to you
that I will prepare you to take
advantage of the many wonder-
ful opportuoitke of the great auto
busioessl
Tractors — It’s ^ the
world’s biggest business.
Amazing money oppor-
tunities everywhere for
trained men. My Em-
ployment Service helps
you to big jobs, and I
help you to get into businese
for yourself.
My Big Book
l^ckl j
1 will send it to you without I
one penny of cost. Read all I
the tacts* find out about the
demand for trained Auto Ex-
perts. Let me tell you how I
easly and quickly you, too,
may become an Auto Expert.
Splendid offer right now to
ambitious men. Coupon
brings complete informatioxu |
Mail it todayl
Address Me B %Af DIRECTING
Personally Da WVa ENGINEER
MOTOR INSTITUTE OF. AMERICA
MOTOR mSTITUTE BLOCk DEPT. |3237 EVANSTON. ILUNOIS
Coupon brings full
details of complete
Aviation Training, I
am offering FREE of
extra charge. Send
it now.
MAIL THIS COUPON NOW I
Free Auto Book
B. W. COOKE, Directing Engineer
MOTOR INSTITUTE OF AMERICA
Mo<orlB*t!tiiteBld(.,D«pt. 3237 ETaastoa,IO.
Send me FREE your Big Auto Book. "Auto Pacts” and
proof that you will train me in spare time at home.
Alsodetailsof AVIATION Course Offer. Also reserve
^3 Testing and Repair Outfits without obligating me.
Name .
Address
City
State
Quartalg
BOTANY
ProfMsor Etner 6. CamptMit
- , TransylTania College.
Penns7l* profe««er Mviaret Clay Ferguson. Pb.D.
Wellesley College.
Professor C. E. Owens
Natural Oregon Agricultural College.
CHEMISTRY
Professor Gerald Wendt
Dean, School of Chemistry and Physics.
Pennsyirania College.
MATHEMATICS
Professor C. Irwin Palmer
Dean of Students.
Armour Institute of Technology.
Professor James Byrnie Shaw
University of Illinois.
Professor Waldo A. Titsworth. 8.N
Alfred University.
MEDICINE
Dr. David H. Keller
Western State HospitaL
Prefessor Samuel G. Barton
Flower Observatory, University of
9^^ vania.
^ Or. Clyde FUher, Ph.D.. LL.D.
T Curator, The American Museum of
History.
Professor William J. Luyten. Ph.D.
Harvard College Observatory.
ASTROPHYSICS
I Donald H. Menzel, Ph.D. , ^
Lick Observatory. University of California.
ELECTRICITY
Professor F. E. Austin
Formerly of Dartmouth College.
ENTOMOLOGY
William M. Wheeler
Dean. Bussey Institution for Research in
Applied Biology. Harvard University’.
PHYSICS AND RADIO
Or. Lee doForest, Ph.D., O.Se.
These nationally-known educators pass upon the scientific principles of all stories.
PHV8ICS
ProfeMor A. L. Pitch
Cntrecslt; ot Haloe.
PSYCHOLOGY
Or. Marjoria E. Babcock
Acting Director. Psychological CUnio*
University of Hawaii.
ZOOLOGY
0^ Joseph G. YMhioka
Science Fiction vs. Science Faction
By HUGO GERNSBACK
N time to come, there is no question that
scientific facts that the story, as far as the
scientific part is concerned, is no longer fiction
but becomes more or less a recounting of fact.
For instance, if one spoke of rocket-propelled
fliers a few years ago, such machines obviously
would have come under the heading of science
fiction. Today such fliers properly come under
the term science faction; because the rocket is a
fact today. And, while rocket-propelled flying
machines are as yet in a stage similar to the
Wright brothers’ first airplane, yet the few ex-
perimenters who have worked with rocket-pro-
pelled machines have had sufficient encourage-
ment to enable us to predict quite safely that
during the next twenty-five years, rocket flying
will become the order of the day.
Which is the better story, the one that deals
with pure science fiction or the one that deals
with science faction^ That is a difficult thing
to say. It depends, of course, entirely upon the
story, its treatment and the ingenuity of the
author.
Of course, the man of science, the research
worker, and even the hard-headed business man
will perhaps look with more favor upon science
faction because here he will get valuable inform-
ation that may be_ of immediate use; whereas the
i^ormation contained in the usual run of science
fiction may perhaps be too far in advance of the
times and may often be thought to ^ too fan-
tastic to be of immediate use to humanity. ^
between science fiction and science faction there
will always be a great gap — and each will have
its thousands and perhaps millions of adherents.
I science fiction will be looked upon with con-
siderable respect by every thinking person.
The reason is that science fiction has already
contributed quite a good deal to progress and
civilization and wjU do so increasingly as time
goes on.
It all started with Jules Verne and his Nau-
tilus, which was the forerunner of all modem
submarines. The brilliant imagination of Jules
Verne no doubt did a tremendous bit to stimu-
late inventors and constructors of submarines.
But then, of course, Jules Verne was an exception
in that he knew how to use fact and combine it
with fiction.
In time to come, also, our authors will make a
marked distinction between science fiction and
science faction, if I may coin such a term.
The distinction should be fairly obvious. _ In
science fiction the author may fairly let his im-
agination run wild and, as long as he does not
turn the story into an obvious fairy tale, he will
still remain within the bounds of pure science
fiction. Science fiction may be prophetic fiction,
in that the things imaging by the author may
come true some time; even if this “some time
may mean a hundred thousand years hence. Thm,
of course, there are a number of degrees to the
fantastic in science fiction itself. It may imn
the entire gamut between the probable, possible
and near-impossible predictions.
In sharp counter-distinction to science fiction,
we also have science faction. By this term I
mean science fiction in which there are so many
The Next Issue of WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
Will Be on Salejp^ December 15. 1930
5
QSSS
AND
Moon
This story hy the author of **Electropolia^ created such a
, ,, many, that we imported it at a considerable expense,
^ ,’rn. Francis Currier. We take yreat pleasure in presenting
mesfy
(Illustration by Paiu)
Rays of fire burst from the artificial island
» fantastic and gigantic flashes.
<4TT is my boat!” cried Kurt Korus. He was a
I small and rather chubby man, his face
^ flushed by running and his blond hair
somewhat ruffled. He was addressing a tall,
slender, bespectacled and likewise blond Ameri
can, who was sitting in the motorboat. The
Chinese sailor was already busy with the con-
trols.
"Beg your pardon, the boat belongs to me.”
“Yesterday evening I rented it from Mr. Jum-
ble.”
"Tonight I bought it from Mr. Jumble.”
"Start!”
The motor started, and the American pulled
off his coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves.
“Well, in three seconds we shall pass that
steamer. At that moment I shall knock you into
the water, so that you can reach the ship. I am
not a murderer.”
Korus smiled pleasantly.
Between Earth
6
through the harbor like an arrow, Korus said:
“From the New York Herald’l"
“New York Evening Ledger. Are you from Ham-
burg?” answered the American.
“Berlin Press," said Korus.
After a pause, Korus continued, “What is New
Atlantis?”
“Madness.”
“Who is Joe Allister?”
“A man who has a million too much.” ’
By Otfrid
Von Hanstein
terrific sensation in Ger
and had it translated
it to our, readers.
“I should advise you not to do that. I should
have to duck you under water until you had lost
your breath. Besides, I have swum the Channel
three times.”
After a pause, during which the two sat silent-
ly opposite each other, while the speed boat sped
“Who is Egon Helmstatter?”
“A man who would be put in jail in England.”
“Why?”
“Who is Waldemar Apel?”
“Exactly the same as we.”
“What does that mean?”
7
8
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
“A dreamer, an idealist, a real man, one who
after all earns money, for he is getting the million
which Allister loses.” Both laughed. Then the
German bowed and introduced himself: “Kurt
Korus.”
“All Right.”
“Boor!”
“Are you, or is that your name?”
“No, you are! I tell you my name, and you
say 'all right’.”
"Are you a boor, because your name is Korus?
My name is Albert Right, abbreviated to All
Right. Just think of A1 Smith.”
Again a pause, and then the American slowly
extended his hand.
“Allies?”
“To be sure. You
are America, I am
Europe. Allied
warfare against
New Atlantis.”
“Very well.”
They had left
the bay, and with
the speed of an ex-
press train the mot-
orboat was racing
out on the ocean,
as brilliant as a
mirror this evening,
with its waves
foaming up high
and breaking in
white spray over
the two reporters,
while the Chinese
sailor stood motion-
less at the wheel in
his oilskins.
The Cliff House
above San Francis-
co. An immeasur-
ably splendid even-
ing, with the flower
gardens about the
rather haughty
structure all in
bloom. Dance
music in the open
air, young ladies in
the most modern
danci^ frocks, all
the gilded youth of San Francisco, and the best
negro orchestra in California. Far below, on the
sea-washed rocks, the traditional seals with won-
dering eyes. At the back of the house was a
quiet hall. Its doors and windows were care-
fully secured, to keep out the merry sounds of
the dance music. There was an assemblage of
serious men: scientists, astronomers, technicians
from all over the world. In the front row was a
short, thin, wrinkled man of some seventy years,
Joe Allister, the petroleum king, who was giving
the million.
Beside him sat his bnly remaining child, his
twenty-two year-old daughter Irene Allister,
youthful, slender, black-haired, with a dainty
face and intelligent eyes.
On the platform, beside the great blackboard
on which a strange airship was drawn, stood
Waldemar Apel. He was a typically energetic
German in the prime of life. His speech was
short, firm, definite, and convincing. He con-
cluded his discourse thus:
“Now I merely have to show you briefly the
form of the space rocket, depicted here, which
is to make its first ascent tomorrow at noon. In
general it follows the ideas and plans of the
German scientist, Herman Oberth. To limit the
weight to the very minimum and at the same
time to obtain the greatest possible rigidity and
ability to resist the
immense initial
pressure to which
the ship will be ex-
posed on starting,
the entire hull of
the ship has been
made, so far as
metal is concerned,
of beryllium. This
has been produced
for the first time
i n considerable
amounts b y the
German professors
Stock and Gold-
schmidt. It is extra-
ordinarily lighter
and at the same
time much harder
than aluminum.
“To be sure, it is
a very costly sub-
stance, for you
know that the
green emerald, the
bluish green aqua-
marine, and finally
the ruby and sap-
phire as well, are
nothing but crystal-
lized forms of
beryllium. The
rocket, which has
approximately the
shape of an artil-
lery shell, had to
have extraordinary
dimensions, to be capable of enough of a load.
Though only one man takes the risk of being the
first to undertake the gigantic flight, the rocket
is really built to take three or four passengers.
Its len^h is no less than thirty-five meters*, its
breadth six meters.**
A Hazardous Undertaking
•* A T the very bow are empty spaces, which
are to allow the ship to remain afloat in
water. Behind is the cabin of the operator and
the passengers. From here all the steering de-
* 110 feet.
•• About 26 feet.
M ost writers of moon stories have seen as
the most interesting part o£ an interplane-
tary adventure, the conflict of our race with
a new and strange ci^Iization. They assume that
the Moon, Venus, Mars or some other planet is in-
habited and proceed to construct exceUent stories
about the probaUe adventures our earthlings
would have.
The present stoiy however is a complete excep-
tion. Von Hanstein does not at all deviate from
what we actually know about the moon — ^that it
is by turns intensely cold and intensely hot— that
it has two weeks of night and two weeks of day;
that it is lifeless, airless and indeed a most desol-
ate dead world. What would happen then, he asks,
if some space voyagers found themselves stranded
on this dead world. How could they live; and if
they did live what would be the effect on their
health and their nerves of the terrible desolation,
the unending monotony of the lunar worid? Would
they go mad and try to kill each other? Would
they revert to savagery?
'^ese are questions that must be answered if
space travel is to really come, and our author does
assure them. We must face the facts, the diffi-
culties, as our good author gives them to us gloomy
as they are. But there is a brighter side to his
picture too. There is humor as well as tragedy,
bravery and the thrill of dashes across hundreds
of thousands of miles of empty space in this most
exciting and real of interplanetary stories.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
9 .
vices and all the necessary apparatus are man-
aged by levers.
“Here in wall cabinets are also the food sup-
plies, the ‘diving suits’, the cylinders of oxygen,
and lastly a small supply of oxygen and hydro-
gen kept in metal bottles. The extreme rear end
of the rocket is only loosely attached.^ Here are
again reproduced on a smaller scale, in the form
of an auxiliary rocket, all the exhausts which are
to propel the ship. This auxiliary rocket is to
give the ship its initial velocity and then, after
its fuel supply is exhausted, it is to be released
from the main ship by the pressure of a lever
which sets in motion some sharp knives, thus
casting it off. Only then, that is to say when
high up in space, begins the rocket explosions
which are caused by the flowing out of our gas
mixture to give the rocket its steady flight.
“You see the entire rear part of the ship filled
with the pumps and all the apparatus pertaining
to the operation of the rocket. You see the
gyroscopic steering devices around the ship, and
of course I do not need to tell you that the en-
tire ship is assured against any loss of heat by
means of newly invented insula-
tion layers.
“Gentlemen, there is no doubt
that this rocket would be able to
reach distant bodies in space, the
moon, our neighboring planets.
At present that is not our pur-
pose. Tomorrow we will make a
trial flight which is particularly
to demonstrate the ability to di-
rect the course of the rocket. The
courageous man who will dare
this first flight will ascend only
a little beyond the atmosphere
and will then describe a semi-
circle over the earth at a velocity
of about two thousand kilometers
an hour, landing again in the In-
dian Ocean, not far from Mada-
gascar, probably sooner than our
boldest fancies imagine.
“I have the honor to invite you,
for this first trial flight, to the
little island New Atlantis, recent-
ly structed by us in the ocean from iron and con-
crete, to which our steamer will transport you
tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. Mnally, I
have the additional honor of naming our bold
pilot and of presenting him to you.
“Dr. Egon Helmstatter, may I ask you to step
forward?”
A young man, about twenty-five years old,
a slender wiry person with an energetic face and
determined eyes, stepped upon the platform in
some embarrassment and bowed to the assem-
blage.
At this moment, while there was a loud burst
of applause, Irene Allister uttered a short cry.
OTPRID VON HANSTEIN
He was in the back garden of Cliff House.
Not where the dancing couples were crowding
under the electric lights to the tunes of the
negro orchestra, but where the cliff was bordered
by only a narrow iron rail, offering a splendid
view of the foaming sea and the brilliant harbor
of San Francisco. It was lonely here. Those
who were not dancing were crowding around
Waldemar Apel, the ingenious inventor of the
rocket, around Joe Allister, who had freely spent
a million dollars, around the blackboard with
the picture of the strange ship. To be sure, the
actual leading character. Dr. Egon Helmstatter,
was no longer in the hall. It was he who was
standing alone out there on the cliff, looking out
into the distance. He felt strange but not wor-
ried. He did not regret his decision, but he was
aware of its full extent. Here he rtood on the
cliff and gazed across to San Francisco. He was
young, he was healthy and strong. Before him
could lie a long and happy life.
Tomorrow perhaps he would be the most fam-
ous man on earth.
Tomorrow perhaps millions would lie at his
feet.
Not a good outlook. One to a hundred. Prob-
ably tomorrow about noon his young limbs would
be tom to atoms, flying across the ocean like a
new Icarus — he who burned^ his wings on the
sun.
He started, feeling that some-
one was standing behind him.
It was Irene Allister.
“Why have you done it?”
He looked at her, a thoughtful
expression in his eyes.
“Did you not tell me yourself.
Miss Allister, that you would only
love a man who did something
extraordinary ? ”
She seized his hand.
“Then it is for me? Then I am
to blame, if tomorrow you — ?”
Anxiety, fear, and deep feeling
were in her words, yet Egon took
it in a most remarkable fashion.
Certainly, a few days before,
when he was alone with Irene in
her father’s park, he had spoken
of his love, and she had said with
a smile the words which he now
repeated.
But now all that seemed to him
so strange and trifling. That night, he had re-
solved that at the very first moment, he would
place himself at Apel’s disposal.
Was it to win Irene Allister?
In these two days he had become quite an-
other person. He had thought nothing more
of Irene. He was completely sunk and absorbed
in the immensity of his new work. He felt
himself a pioneer in human knowledge and
achievement.
Now the weeping girl stood before him. Could
he, standing at the threshold of eternity, think
of a girl ? To be sure, she was dear to him, and
he was infinitely sorry for her.
“No, Miss Allister, you are not to blame. It
is my own free will to offer my life to science
and perhaps to the future of mankind.”
She looked at him, and slowly he looked away
again into the distance. She had flirted with
him as with many others. At this moment.
10
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
when she fellt that the soul of this man was
barely held to earth, he seemed to her super-
naturally grand and splendid, and she knew
that she loved him.
“Remain here!”
He turned again to her. He softened. He
laid his hand on her head, saying, “Be happy
and hope that your father’s work will succeed.”
At this moment his eye was f^ed on some-
thing else. He saw a swift little motorboat
speeding across the bay below. He felt as
though he could suddenly see clearly.
“Excuse me, please. Miss Allister.”
He freed his hand from hers and walked
quickly into the house.
She looked after him, realizing that he had
completely forgotten her. For the first' time
since she was a child, Irene Allister bowed her
head on a post of the fence and wept.
A Sudden Decision
J OE Allister was standing alone in the little
special room behind the great hall. The hub-
bub of the people who crowded about him had
become too much for him, and the old man felt
exhausted.
Egon Helmstatter walked up to him. “May I
trouble you for a moment?”
At once the petroleum king took in the terri-
fied expression of the young man.
“What is it ?”
“I do not know, Mr. Allister, but for several
minutes I have felt an inexplicable anxiety.”
Allister smiled understandingly.
“It is of course for you to say whether you
wish to ascend tomorrow.”
Egon shook his head.
“0 nonsense! Wasn’t it your intention to set
out for New Atlantis at the same time as the
steamer?”
“Certainly.”
“Would it not be possible for us to start at
once, so that you might take me to the artificial
island as fast as possible?”
“But why?”
“I cannot tell you. I myself do not know. Sud-
denly the idea seized me that danger threatens
the rocket this very night, that we cannot get
there soon enough.”
“You are nervously excited.”
“Perhaps, but—”
“Well, has something happened to you?”
“I was standing by the cliff, when all of a sud-
den I saw a swift motorboat hurrying across the
water, toward the mouth of the bay.”
“And what else?”
“Nothing else. I only imagine that there might
be people in the boat who would injure us. Who
would go out on the ocean at night in a motor-
boat?”
“Perhaps a couple of over-eager reporters.
They cannot land. New Atlantis is well watched.”
The old man walked back and forth nervously.
“Your anxiety is infecting me. Of course it is
nonsense, but after all — ” He laughed. “Do you
know, that really is a good idea. Now is the time
for the festive dinner. Speeches to me, to you, to
everybody. The usual mutual incense-burning
without any sense. Look for my daughter, and
we will set out secretly. Order my car. This is
a fine joke. While the hyenas of enthusiasm are
waiting for us in the hall, we will quietly make
our getaway, eat comfortably on my yacht, and
sleep a few extra hours, before the big show be-
gins.”
When the committee of honor entered ten min-
nutes later, to accompany Mr. Allister and Egon
Helmstatter solemnly into the banquet hall, they
were disappointed to find nothing but a note:
“We have already started for New Atlantis.”
They actually were already on board the
Swallow, the white yacht of the petroleum king,
passing through the bay.
It was two hours later. Already they were far
out in the ocean, for the motorboat was making
extraordinary speed thru the quiet sea. Kurt and
the American for a long time had ceased to sit
in hostile fashion on opposite sides of the boat.
They were sitting together below in the tiny cab-
in, where the spray did not enter. Korus had
lighted a cigar, and the American had filled his
pipe.
“We should be there in about an hour.”
“Then we have at least four hours start on
Allister’s yacht.”
“Of course the island is guarded.”
The American bent close to the German.
“I absolutely have to get into the rocket to-
night. If I can telegraph the New York Evening
Ledger an exact description of the ship early to-
morrow, I shall earn four thousand dollars.”
“We Germans are poorer. I’ll get only three
thousand marks.”
“Well, we must get in, but how?”
Korus held out his hand.
“Tit for tat?”
“How so?”
“If you are ready to render services in return.
I’ll take you along.”
“Have you confederates?”
“Three makes an alliance.” f
“Who is the third?” \
“Nagao Hazumi.”
“The Japanese?”
“Yes from the Asahi, you know the Tokyo Sun,
they pay more than New York. Five thousand
dollars.”
“Is he there already?”
“He has been for three days. Among the
guards disguised as a Chinese.”
“I’ll be damned! For three days?”
“No matter, he doesn’t understand technical
matters. He has to wait for me to come and ex-
plain it all to him. I shall do that, so that he
will take me into the rocket.”
The American pressed his hand.
“Then we three, America, Germany, and Japan,
will send our reports at the same time.”
New Atlantis!
T he white yacht of the petroleum king was
speeding across the ocean under a full head of
steam. To be sure, it couldn’t catch the little
motorboat with the speedy engines. Joe Allister
felt very content.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
11
“Pitch in, Doctor, You will not be' offered such
good food tomorrow.”
Egon smiled a little.
“I hope that the lunch in Madagascar is not
too bad.”
"Well, you will be only a few minutes en
route.”
Egon was very serious.
“Perhaps a whole eternity.”
A1 lister shook his head.
"Don’t forget that you have my million in your
hand.”
Irene could no longer bear to listen to this con-
versation. Silently she left the room.
Still the motorboat raced through the waves.
It was almost midnight, pitch dark, the moon and
stars veiled by black clouds, but in the sky there
suddenly appeared a bright light, growing
stronger every minute. Korus and the American
were now standing on the deck of the boat.
“New Atlantis,”
It was the little island in the vast ocean, as
yet unseen by anyone, carefully guarded from
every outside eye by Joe Allister’s stately fleet.
It was a remarkable island, circular, about
half a kilometer in diameter. It rose from the
sea, floating on it and fastened to the bottom
only by strong anchors. It actually was a huge
hemisphere of metal and concrete, open under-
neath. Above it was shaped to a single perfectly
level platform, which rose so high above the
water that it was not splashed by the waves.
From this platform steps led down to the water
all around. On all four sides, ribs several hun-
dred meters long extended out into the sea, form-
ing four harbors, which could be used according
to the direction of the wind.
At the outermost point of each of these break-
waters was a little lighthouse, and before each
of these lighthouses one of Joe Allister’s ships
lay at anchor, with steam up.
The little motorboat had put out all its lights
and the motor was throttled to a very low speed.
Korus looked at his watch.
“Ten minutes of twelve. We must wait these
ten minutes, I told Nagao Hazumi that I would
come at midnight. We cannot venture the en-
trance without him to guide us.”
“Full speed astern.”
The American had pulled the lever himself.
The nearest ship was sending out a searchlight
and sweeping the ocean.
“The devil, we came near being in the beam of
light,”
They remained motionless, rocked by the
waves, while the American laughed.
“I feel as though I were aboard a rum runner.”
They looked at the watch.
“Midnight — five past — ten past twelve.”
They listened. Everything remained unchanged.
Yonder was the brilliantly lighted island, in
the middle of which a great structure of iron
beams rose indistinctly; yonder were the four
ships, each in turn sweeping the sea with its
searchlights.
“The Japanese is not making any sign.”
“Who knows what may have happened to
him?”
“Every minute is precious, we must chance
it.”
“Absolutely impossible.”
“Why?”
“We can in no way land without being noticed.”
“Certainly there are guards on the shore too.”
“Are we to turn back?”
“We’ll swim over,”
Without replying, Korus jumped down into
the cabin, came up with the remains of the ham
which they had been eating, and threw it into the
water. At once great fish heads shot up from the
depths.
“There are also sharks.”
The two men, who were watching with vex-
ation the sharks fighting over the b^ooty, could
not help shuddering at the sight. Then they were
addressed in broken English'.
“Good evening, sirs!”
They looked around. It was not, as they had
first thought, the Chinese sailor but instead a
small Japanese in European clothing.
“Nagao Hazumi, are you here?”
“Yes. You went right by my boat. How could
you be so careless? If the ships see you we are
done.”
“Well then?”
“I am here in a rowboat. It was not easy to
reach your boat.”
“Can we land?”
“Why else should I be here?”
“Have you been in the rocket yet?”
“Things will be ready in an hour.”
“What does ‘ready’ mean?”
“When the guards are asleep.”
“Brandy?”
The Japanese first cast a questioning glance
at the American, was reassured by the German,
and then whispered in their ears, “Opium.”
“Fine.”
The Japanese took charge. All three got into
the little rowboat in which Nagao Hazumi had
come and which he had tied to the larger boat.
The Chinese was ordered to return to San
Francisco but in any case to make a wide detour,
in case Allister’s yacht or the steamer with the
guests of honor should encounter him. Nagao
Hazumi rowed on, then waiting until the beam
jof the searchlight of the nearest ship had
again disappeared, he whisked past the steamer
with almost noiseless strokes, and slipped into
the shadow of the breakwater. Covered by this,
they approached the strange island of New At-
lantis.
^CHAPTER II.
The Mysterious Projectile
A S silently as he had I’owed along the break-
water, the Japanese made the boat fast at
the grated edge of the lowest step of this re-
markable island. He got out first and looked
around. Already during the trip Korus had made
him acquainted with the American, though the
Japanese had certainly given him no friendly
looks.
“It was against the agreement.”
Korus shrugged his shoulders.
12
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
“Was I to get myself knocked into the water?”
said he, turning to A1 Bight. “In fact, that talk
about swimming the Channel was all bluff.”
The latter smiled and said, “So was knocking
you into the water.”
Peace was established, and now the pair wait-
ed until Nagao Hazumi beckoned to them.
“The miserable swine are already fast asleep.
There is no danger.”
To be sure, one pigtailed gentleman staggered
past them, as all three stood on the top step,
but his eyes were already half glazed, and the
longing for opium had complete possession of
him. —
“First a look into the barracks.”
“The devil! The yellow race isn’t so bad. On
the contrary, I am afraid they will give us all
a nut to crack, but when opium has them in its
claws — ”
They now approached the central elevation.
What they now saw was a phantastically un-
canny structure. Four towers, something like
those of a radio station. Four slim towers of
ironwork, with the immense projectile in their
centre. Only now did they see how immense it
was.
“Of course!” nodded Korus. “A regular four
story dwelling house is at most seventeen meters
high. This projectile, as Apel explained, is
thirty-five meters long and six wide. It is up-
right, with the tip toward the sky. See, the
rocket is very loosely held by four elastic rings
running from the four towers. At its four sides
are wheels which will also slip along elastic
tracks, when the thing goes up. Below the
wheels, which are probably cast off during the
fiight, are the gyroscopic controls of which Apel
spoke. And below, that is at the rear end of the
rocket, are the exhausts. That is to say, it is
really the auxiliary rocket, which is fitted over
the actual stern like an overshoe. There are the
knives with which one can cut off this auxiliary
rocket.”
“Would you like to go with the thing, Nagao?”
he turned to the Jap.
“Buddha forbid.”
“All right!”
The American was fond of making a pun of
his name. They now saw a sort of stairway in
one of the towers.
“Probably that leads to the cabin.”
“Just say to the coffin, for whoever is the first
to shut himself up in this cabin and begin the
flight is ready for burial.”
“But Apel — **
“Is right in theory, but in practise it is nothing
but a mad dream. I am sorry for the man who
is sacrificing himself.”
“He firmly believes in it.”
“I certainly don’t. How about it, colleague
Korus, we don’t go along with him, do we?”
“We two certainly do not. Sir All Right. But
we must now take a good look around and earn
our pay.”
They had climbed up about twenty-five meters
and were now standing on a little platform which
was full of holes. From here they could get a
perfect view of the whole little concrete island.
which had nothing on it besides the rocket struc-
ture but two barracks. They also had a view
far out over the sea.
“Hello, do you see out there?”
“Good Heavens, lights out on the sea.”
All Right took out his spyglass.
“Damn it, that is no chance steamer. That
is Allister’s yacht.”
“Then let us be quick.”
They went to the door of the rocket, which
was not locked. It could not be, because there
was no possibility of having anything like a
keyhole in the outer wall. The lock was inside
only, and now there was . even a metal strip
wedged in between, to keep it open.
“The whole ship is pure beryllium.”
They entered, and Korus took out his flash-
light.
“We had better not light up. Who knows how
far it might be visible. We would get the guard
ship after us.”
The cabin was small, about five meters wide
and two meters deep. It took in almost the en-
tire width of the rocket, right behind the bow.
At the back was a bench, very softly padded and
mounted on strong springs, capable of holding
three or four people comfortably. The entire
forward wall was covered with levers, with all
sorts of mysterious switches bearing inscriptions.
Otherwise this wall was also padded, and each of
the levers was in a depression, over which a
little cushion was now bent back and secured
by a leather loop.
Playing With Fire
I T was clear that all these cushions were to
cover the depressions before the start, when all
four walls of the cabin would be completely
covered with padding. Likewise the ceiling.
“Damn it, the pilot must get a good shaking
up in the cabin, if such padding is needed.”
Again the American shook his head.
“I am not going along!”
The Japanese had opened a cupboard by turn-
ing a knob over at the side.
“Well, the food supplies are not so bad, just
look here!”
“It is a pity that no one will have a chance to
enjoy them.”
The three journalists now were sitting on
the padded bench. The American had placed
his flashlight on one of the shelves drawn out
of the wall, and all were busy in writing notes
with hasty fingers. Korus even attempted to
take a flashlight picture with his pocket kodak.
Occasionally they looked out carefully. The
steamer, which they took to be Joe Allister’s
yacht, was rapidly coming nearer, being already
close to the guard ships.
All Right closed his notebook, saying, “I will
bet ten thousand dollars that whoever carries
out the crazy idea of exposing himself in this
thin-walled ship to the pressure of the rocket
force will be smashed to bits right in the first
moment. Do you hear, squashed flat, torn to
atoms, annihilated! I will bet ^en thousand
dollars, do you understand?”
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
13
No one seemed to want to tal^e the bet. The
Japanese eyed the food in the cupboards,
“It really is a pity. I am sure that not one of
the three of us has had a bite to eat tonight.
The good food will needlessly perish — ”
He looked cunningly at the other two, but
Korus shook his head.
“A real journalist would set the world on his
head, like Atlas, to discover what he could learn,
but he would not steal.”
“All right,” said the American, with a nod,
looking threateningly at the Japanese.
' The latter was already again among the levers.
“If we only knew — we at least could see
some of the apparatus in action — ”
“Look out!”
Korus pushed back his hand.
“But the levers here are simply for steering.
I never saw the working of such a gyroscope.”
Before the other two could prevent it, Nagao
Hazumi had turned one of the levers. For a
moment everything was quiet, but then there
came from behind or rather from below, from
the rear of the rocket, a humming sound, as
though a clockwork were set in motion.
“Turn the lever back!”
“Let us waitr— ”
The humming became stronger, the structure
of the rocket was already beginning to tremble
a little.
“For Heaven’s sake, push back the lever!”
At this moment the American knocked the
flashlight off the shelf, the little bulb smashed
on striking the metal floor, and it became dark,
while the humming and the vibration increased.
“A match!”
They searched their pockets.
“I haven’t any!”
“Here!”
The match flared up.
“Now I don’t know which lever 1 turned.”
His hand felt from handle to handle. Other
sounds became audible. Outside at the break-
water a whistle sounded. Evidently the yacht
had reached the island.
“Let’s get away.”
“Those must be levers that don’t matter. The
doctor will arrive any minute and shut every-
thing off.”
“Where are my notes?”
The three intruders were groping about in
the dark, for the Japanese had dropped the
match. Because the rocket stood upright, the
bench was with the back downward, and they
fell over it. Because the shelf, which swung
in all directions, was hard to push back into the
wall in the darkness, time was lost. At the same
time the sounds became louder every second.
There was a very gentle explosion, at which the
Japanese tore open the door and leaped out. In
so doing he collided with someone outside.
Allister’s Feelings
A t the Lick Observatory, the great California
observatory on the southern peak of Mt.
Hamilton, thirteen miles east of San Jose, built
by the generosity of Lick, the manufacturer of or-
gans and pianos, in the year 1888, was still lo-
cated the second largest refractor in the world.
It was surpassed only by that of the Chicago Ob-
servatory. In the night about which we have been
speaking there was great activity there.
Director Campbell himself was in the obser-
vation room.
“When is the space rocket to ascend?”
“Tomorrow forenoon.”
“Have you found the mysterious island of
New Atlantis?”
“Not yet. Its place is kept secret and will be
disclosed only tomorrow.”
“Ridiculous secrecy. Here, I will look for it
myself.”
He turned the dome, seated himself in the ob-
servation chair, and pointed one of the best tele-
scopes out to sea.
He sat there for nearly an hour. Then he shook
his head.
“The air is not clear, there is nothing to be
found.”
At this moment he looked again into the eye-
piece, to turn it back again, when he cried soft-
ly — began to tremble, and fell off the chair.
“What has happened?”
“I don’t know — I think it was the space rock-
et!”
He was so startled that he could not talk.
He jumped up, ran to the great refractor, and
gazed silently and tensely into the blackness of
the cloudy night.
It was only toward morning that the director,
weary and vexed, left his seat without saying
a word to his assistant and went back to his
dwelling.
The white yacht had traversed half the dis-
tance between San Francisco and the artificial
island. Egon Helmstatter was in the cabin. He
was very serious. Some inner voice was telling
him that he would make the ascent either im-
mediately or never. He was thinking about the
rocket. What if something were happening?
What if something were happening now, to pre-
vent the flight? He shook his head. He did not
wish that, he wanted to make the flight?
He knelt down and opened his suitcase. He be-
gan to pack a knapsack. He had brought with
all sorts of things which Waldemar Apel had not
given him until to-day. He had intended to have
them carried to the rocket the next day, but now
he filled the knapsack and buckled it. Then he
went up on deck and took his place forward,
scanning the sea with his telescopes. There was
nothing to be seen of the little motorboat. On
the contrary, ahead was a yellowish glow, the
lighthouses of New Atlantis.
Irene AHister was in her father’s cabin. Joe
Allister was sitting in a chair and reading the
newspaper, calmly reading the stock market re-
ports unaware of any danger.
“Father!”
“What is it?”
“Does the rocket have to start tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Can’t you postpone it a week?”
“Why?”
14
WONDER STORIE§ QUARTERLY
“Because I should like to go along, too,”
“You are foolish — or are you in love with the
doctor?”
“I should like to go along. I should not care
to have him get all the glory. I am your daugh-
ter.”
“Just because you are my only child, you may
not risk your life. If the first flight is success-
ful—”
She pouted and said, “Then the chance for a
record is over — ^father — I should like to go, too !”
Allister slowly rose and stepped over to her,
“It enough for me to sacrifice the million,
not you too.”
She gave a little cry
“What do you mean,
that it will be successfc
“Not since this evening.”
“For Heaven’s sake, why?”
“I do not know myself, but I feel so, and
feeling never deceives me.”
“And still you are letting him
looking out into the night.
In this hour he
standing forward,
“Doctor !”
He turned and gazed at her.
had not been thinking of Irene.
“Have you faith in your work?”
“Firm faith, if scoundrels are not now taking
a hand.”
“Father no longer believes in it.”
“If he does not start, if I admit that it is im-
possible, then I am the one who ridiculous. If
it does not succeed, the (Jerman bears the blame.”
“What a terrible thing to say!”
Anxious Moments
(Illustration by Paul)
It was a remarkable island. It rose from the
sea, floating on it, carefully guarded from
every outside eye.
“That does not matter. He has given the
money, the rest is our aifair, Waldemar Apel’s
and mine.”
He could not understand why she suddenly
fled away. He did not know that she was cry-
ing. Again he gazed over at the lights which
were growing brighter and brighter.
A llister shrugg;ed his shoulders and buried
himself again in his newspaper. Irene went
out and climbed up on deck. Egon was still
Swiftly the Swallow approached New Atlantis.
As soon as the bright lights of the yacht rose
above the horizon, the searchlight of the fore-
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
15
most guardship by the breakwater began to play.
Signals were exchanged, and a boat set out from
the steamer. The captain had recognized the
Swallow and came to report to Joe Allister.
“Good morning, captain, is all well?”
“Everything in order, sir, no ships sighted and
nothing occurring on the island.”
a hand in the conversation.
still more worried look on his face. With his
telescope he scanned the island.
“Doctor, doctor, I believe you are nervous.”
“Indeed I am. I beg of you, let us land.”
Joe Allister shrugged his shoulders and smiled
to himself. He had his own ideas about all this.
“I understand, I should be nervous myself,
surely, if I — ”
He stopped speaking, because he saw Irene
coming. The yacht was entering one of the sec-
tional harbors. It moored at the pier, and Egon
was the first to spring ashore.
“Hey! Look here!”
No answer — nobody — no guard at the shore.
There was only the great steel colossus, which
held the upright rocket in its spidery arms as if
in a tender embrace, rising up alone into the air.
“Mr. Allister! Where is the guard?”
“They are surely sleeping soundly. They are
only Chinese after all!”
Hurriedly Egon raced into the great barracks
which served the guards as a dwelling. It was
meagerly lighted by a few electric bulbs. At a
glance Egon perceived what had happened here.
In a long row the Chinese lay on their benches,
their faces distorted into hideous grins, their eyes
“Didn’t a small motorboat try to get into the
harbor?”
The captain laughed, saying, *Tt tried all
right. But when it came into the range of our
searchlight, it turned and fled back to San Fran-
cisco.”
Joe Allister nodded. “You see,” he said, “I
know my captains. What are the Chinese doing
on the island?”
“Probably nothing at all.”
Egon looked questioningly at him.
“Chinese are keeping guard?”
“Intentionally. They know nothing of science
and can reveal nothing.”
Allister was completely at ease and looked
sideways at Egon. But the latter was far from
reassured. On the contrary, he had an almost
(Illustration by Paul)
half open, with a look of absolute entrancement.
“Opium!”
He saw in their hands the long thin pipestems
and beside the benches the little lamps over
which their greedy fingers had rolled the opium
to little pellets. Unspeakable horror seized him,
but likewise renewed anxiety, for which he had
no explanations.
Allister and Irene had remained on board the
yacht and had called to Egon that they were
awaiting his return. Remaining on the luxurious
little ship was very much pleasanter than in the
second barracks, which were far from comfort-
ably equipped.
Egon ran toward the rocket. All of a sudden
his worry increased tremendously. He could not
believe his eyes, and yet he saw it plainly: there
was light in the rocket. A tiny wavering light,
as ttiough someone were moving a flashlight
around.
Now he stood on the summit, leaped up the
stairs in the tower, and was about to open the
door. But at this instant it was flung open from
within. Out slid a man, a small man, apparent-
ly a Japanese, leaping from the room. He fell on
Egon and nearly carried him along with him.
Egon plunged forward into the little cabin.
16
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
But he saw nothing, for at this moment the door
was hurled shut by a frightful force. At the
same time there resounded about him a crashing
and roaring. He was hurled by an irresistible
force against the padding of the cabin and lost
his senses.
The End of New Atlantis
I RENE was standing on the deck of the yacht.
Joe Allister was just about to descend to the
cabin.
“Father!”
She gave a piercing shriek. Allister was be-
side her. He saw her terrified face and followed
the direction of her finger.
“What is it?”
“There is a light in the rocket!”
Now they both saw Egon rushing across the
open place, saw the doors open and something
plunge out. But at the same instant both of
them were hurled to the deck. A brilliant flame
flared up, there was a fearful crash of thunder,!
and the white yacht was raised up by a gigantic
wave which suddenly burst forth from the ocean.'
Irene lay on the deck, gripping the iron railing
in deadly anxiety, in frightful terror. She felt
herself drenched by the monstrous wave as it
broke downward, but she did not lose concious-J
ness. Her staring eyes saw rays of fire burst out
from the bottom of the artificial island, fantastic
and gigantic flashes, followed by a dreadful
concussion. Explosions of elemental forces !
At the same time such a breaking and burst-
ing as though the world were being rent asunder.
There came an icy blast of air. She saw iron and
fragments of concrete flying about her like a
chaotic rain of the Judgment Day. She saw
how the rocket vibrated, how the iron structure
broke and splintered, how the narrow projectile,
shooting out at the rear immense flames, now
left the ground with a hissing and roaring.
Now there was only darkness where a few
seconds before the lights of New Atlantis had
gleamed.
The glare of the great arc lights was gone.
Her senses were we^ened from the poisonous
breath of the gases of the explosion. Her last
glance took in once more the form of the rocket.
It looked red hot, was surrounded by flames,
and — she drifted into unconsciousness.
The little yacht bounded like a rubber ball on
the wild waves. The deck, the superstructure
being destroyed, looked like a heap of ruins. It
was covered with fragments of iron, listed bad-
ly, and almost flooded with water. Bleeding men
were rushing about, sailors with eyes full of
horror, men just escaped from seemingly certain
death.
Joe Allister was standing erect, clutching some
chance support with his bleeding hands and
staring at the place where New Atlantis had
vanished. Single great fragments, able to float,
were still attached to the mighty anchors. Hu-
man beings, Chinese, who had been hurled out,
barracks and all, by the air pressure, were
struggling in the waves. Some boats from the
guard ships were fishing them out.
Irene came to her senses, battered in every
limb. Loudly she cried. What has happened?”
“All New Atlantis has been blown up. The
rocket started, but everything is destroyed.”
For the first time in his life Joe Allister felt
his teeth chattering, and in trying to talk he
stammered.
“Egon!”
Irene stood up, while one of the steamers now
approached and took in tow the yacht, the sink-
ing of which was not perceived by these two
terrified persons. Men boarded it and took them
to the steamer.
Allister paid no heed at first. Only when he
and Iiene were safely settled, when the steamer
cut the towline and the Swallow sank close by
them, did he find speech again* “My million!”
Irene could have struck him. In this hour she
hated him. She lay weeping on the deck, mur-
muring, “Egon — ^I loved him so!”
From the chaos of the wildly raging waters
rose a human head. Two arms swimming auto-
matically, swimming without actual volition.
It was Nagao Hazumi, the Japanese, who was
far out beyond the breakwater, raising himself
above the water and gazing about. Near him
floated a great flat thing. It was part of the
wooden barracks in which the Chinese had slept.
He pulled himself up and sat on this unstable
raft, wiping the water from his face with his
hand and now for the first time actually coming
to himself. The fact that he had been standing
up on the platform of the stairs had caii^sed his
being simply blown away by the first fearful air
pressure of the explosion, which hurled him
through the air like a ball and then plunged him
into the sea far out.
Nagao HaZumi was a sinewy little fellow with
a body steeled by all sorts of sports. He felt
his limbs to see if they were broken. He felt
the feeling of having been flayed, but he was
uninjured, merely scratched to bleeding by the
impact with the water, perhaps also by frag-
ments which had brushed against him. He look-
ed about and slowly began to comprehend. The
rocket, the towers, the barracks with the
Chinese — everything was gone. Dark and dead
was the remnant of the island, and the sea
foamed up high with violence of a spring-tide.
In his eyes was a painful horror. He, he him-
self, had caused the catastrophe. He had caused
it by his frivolous playing with the levers,
though he was not certain of the actual reason.
He had murdered his colleagues, wrecking the
work for which Allister had squandered a mil-
lion!
About him were shrieks of terror and cries for
-help. The four guardships, two of them them-
selves suffering from heavy damage, were sweep-
ing the sea "with their searchlights. In their
beams he could see Chinese swimming or rather
being tossed about on the waves.
He tore a plank from his raft and used it as
an oar. Tirelessly, again and again imperilling
his own life, he rescued the Chinese, wondered
if the wave had driven away the sharks, and
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
17
pulled one body after another on to his unsteady
raft, until someone hailed him.
“Hello, who is there?"
“‘Guards of New Atlantis!”
A boat came over, belonging to the guardship.
“Take over the men — Chinese from the bar-
racks.”
The sailors, who were surprised to see a
Japanese, were still more surprised that he had
disappeared again by the time they had brought
the Chinese from the raft into the boat. Nagao
Hazumi had been thinking things over. If he
were found, he would have to talk, and he would
have to give himself away. Only now it became
clear to him that they would take him to court
and pin the responsibility on him. He had spied
around and seen a little boat, tossing keel-up-
permost on the waves. Once more he sprang into
the water, swam to the boat, clung to it, and
managed to right it again. He even found the
oars fixed in the oarlocks. With swift strokes he
propelled the boat further out to sea. Cautious-
ly he stood up and looked around. The waves
had become calm again, and in the distance he
saw the lights of a steamer which was heading
toward the island. Relieved in mind, he rowed
toward this.
After all, he was to blame and he was not.
How did the other two concern him? He had
risked his life for his newspaper. So had they
for theirs. Certainly he had not intended to
cause the accident.
Nagao Hazumi dropped his oars, left the
guidance of the boat to the waves, and rested.
The steamer came nearer. Nagao had formed
his plan and became still more content when an
hour later, he recognized, with his sharp eyes
which penetrated even the night, the approaching
steamer.
CHAPTER III.
The Three Alone
E gon awoke from his unconsciousness. He was
totally unable to comprehend what had hap-
pened to him. He was in an apparently narrow
and absolutely dark room.
He was not alone, for about him were vague
sounds evidently caused by living beings.
Helmstatter tried to collect his thoughts. It
was not easy, for he had a violent headache and
nausea. He felt like a person still suffering from
the after effects of sea-sickness.
Very slowly his thoughts became lucid, and he
reviewed what had happened. He had seen a
light in the rocket, he had rushed up the stairs,
he had leaped in the cabin — and that was all.
He listened. The walls trembled slightly. The
rocket was in motion. He felt a surging of limit-
less joy. The rocket was in motion! Then the
start was made. Successfully made!
This start had happened quite suddenly
through some chance still inexplicable to him.
In the conviction that for the moment his life
was probably in no direct danger, he became
calm. He groped his way along the walls. He
himself had installed every switch and lever,
and he could find them even in the dark.
He pushed a button, and an electric light was
turned on.
Egon stood up and looked at two terrified
faces, totally unknown to him, which were gazing
up at him.
The expression of these faces, these deathly
white persons who were crouching before him,
dirty, upset, and at the same time embarrassed,
had an almost comical effect on Egon’s once more
confident feeling.
“How did you get here?”
“Excuse me, my name is Korus.”
Even now the reporter could not entirely
suppress his impertinent nature.
“A German?”
“Correspondent of the Berlin Press’*
“And the other gentleman?”
“All Right, correspondent of the New York
Evening Ledger,”
“Gentlemen, with what right did you enter
this cabin?”
“With none at all, simply with the boldness
with which a diligent reporter risks anything
for his paper.”
“Yes.” echoed Right.
The frankness of the two pleased Egon.
“You nearly killed the three of us.”
“That was not our intention. We three, that
is we two and the Japanese Nagao Hazumi,
wanted only to get acquainted with the internal
equipment of the rocket. Chance must have
caused one of us to turn a lever. At once a
clockwork began to hum, we were terrified, and
we knew no longer which lever we had turned.
The Japanese jumped out and you burst in.
Then in that very instant the end of the world
came for all of us.”
“God Almighty!”
Egon had hardly heard the last few words.
He had leaped to the velocity meter and cast a
glance at it. Then he opened a narrow door
above the padded bench at the back of the cabin,
crept through, and disappeared for a moment in
the rear rooms, leaving the two reporters alone.
Korus slowly stood up.
“My bones are most remarkably unbroken.”
“Mine, too.”
“The rocket has started.”
“It is too bad that the doctor arrived. If not,
we two alone would have — ”
“Nonsense, my dear fellow, we should never
have arrived on earth again. Besides, Mr. All
Right, may I ask you for ten thousand dollars?”
“How so?”
“You bet this amount that the rocket would
explode at the start.”
The American said with a grin, “I propose
that we wash up first. We found the water
tank yonder in the cabinet.”
They cleaned themselves and also the floor,
observing how the water oozed away under the
latter.
“It is remarkable how good the air is here.”
“Everything is remarkable.”
Egon returned with a very serious face.
“Gentlemen, it would be absolutely useless
for me to reproach you farther for your ir-
responsible conduct, by which you have cost Joe
18
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
Allister a million and ourselves most probably
our lives. By the wrong use of the levers you set
in action at the same time both the auxiliary
rocket and the actual ship. Most extraordinary
explosions must have occurred, and I suspect
that you have destroyed the island of New At-
lantis and unfortunately probably a large num-
ber of human lives as well.”
“We really did not — ”
“I already told you that is pointless to talk
about these things. We have, though certain-
ly vpry much against my wish, become travelling
companions, and now there is nothing to be done
but to keep a good comradeship. We are now al-
ready en route. The pressure, tremendously in-
creased by the premature immense explosions —
a pressure sufficient to deprive us of our senses —
prevented me from managing the steering con-
trols at the right time. It is impossible for us to
carry out our intention of landing in Madagascar.”
The American slowly turned around.
“Excuse me!”
Bgon continued. We have already left the
terrestrial atmosphere some time ago and are fly-
ing through empty space.”
“Good Heavens!”
An Inevitable Doom
K ORUS had jumped up from the bench. He
did not manage to stand on the floor but flew
headfirst against the padded ceiling of the cabin,
rebounded from this like a rubber ball, struck
his feet on the floor, flew up again from this, and
doubtlesss he would for some time have con-
tinued this sport, which was very amusing for
the two onlookers, if Egon had not drawn him
down on the bench again with a very 'gentle
movement.
“What was that?” asked Korus.
“Well, gentlemen, you must already start to
accustom yourselves a bit to our changed mode
of life. Since we are floating in space, the laws
of good mother Earth no longer hold for us.
Gravity is entirely changed. We have become
independent, and for us the force of attraction
of the earth no longer counts. We have only a
much slighter one, which the centre of gravity
of our own rocket (purposely placed under the
floor of this cabin) exerts upon us. You see, we
need not necessarily float about helplessly in
our cabin, but we must avoid all violent motions.
Look!”
From his trousers-pocket he took a heavy
bunch of keys and let it fall from his hand. It
did not fall quickly to the floor but floated down
very slowly, somewhat like a thin leaf of a tree.
All Right, who was just as much excited as
Korus but did not seem at all despairing, said,
“Then are we on the way to the moon?”
Egon’s face was set,
“We have no more fuel. By your foolishness
our entire supply of hydrogen and oxygen has
been prematurely destroyed, except for a few
oxygen cylinders which we need for our diving
helmets. I have no reason to conceal anything
from you. We have absolutely no more chance
to return to the earth.”
“I thought you could steer the rocket at will?”
“So I can. Now I can at once turn around, so
that we shall reach the earth again in a very short
time.”
All Right nodded his head and said, “Well, do
it!”
“But I no longer have the possibility of braking
the descent by exploding the gas in the opposite
direction to the line of flight. Once we have again
reached the field of terrestrial gravity, we shall of
course plunge downward with a velocity increas-
ing every second. On striking the earth we shall
obviously be smashed to atoms.”
“The devil!”
“I have therefore decided to go to the moon.”
“And then return?”
“I already told you that this is impossible. We
are men, and there is no use in deceiving ourselves.
There is no return for us. We can only try to
use the hours which fate still allots us to increase
our own knowledge.”
Korus shrugged his shoulders.
“My own knowledge is actually of very little
use to me, if I can not report it to my newspaper.”
Egon replied seriously, “Each of us will record
his observations exactly. We will act like a physi-
cian who knows that he must die and yet records
op to the last moment his sensations and his study
of his own body, hoping to help humanity thereby.
Each evening we will together draw up a record
and each time enclose it in a watertight beryllium
case. If we are destroyed perhaps some chance
might carry some of these capsules back to the
earth and thereby benefit science.”
Korus jumped up, again almost becoming a
rubber ball, and pressed Egon’s hand.
“Thank you, doctor!”
“What for?”
“I thought to spend my life as a simple reporter,
but now chance or rather your energy is giving
me a life-work.”
The American also extended his hand, taking
care however not to change his position, and said,
“All right.”
Egon got up, saying, “We cannot expend our
electric light foolishly,”
He pressed a button. On the right side of the
ship the beryllium plates, externally attached,
slipped away from the thick glass panes of the
windows. At the same instant there poured in
such a flood of infinite dazzling light that they
shut their eyes, while Egon had to feel for another
button and darken the windows again. Now he
uncovered the windoWs on the left side of the rock-
et, and after the eyes of the three men had adjust-
ed themselves again, they saw a most extraordi-
nary sight.
About them was dense black space. There was
no blue or cloudy sky, such as they knew on earth,
nothing but a deep black.
And out of this black there shone, harsh, cold,
sharp in outline, the stars. Back of them, direct-
ly behind, the earth could be seen as an immense
disk gleaming in the sunlight, on which they could
readily distinguish the different continents.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
19
How It Is Done
ORUS shook his head.
“How incredible it is. We went up vertically,
point on. Therefore the earth is below us ; but we
see it behind us. Yet we should have to stand with
our feet on the rear wall and be with our heads to-
ward the bow, which is ‘up’ for us.”
“No,” said Egon„ “We were in this position as
long as we were in the field of the earth. I already
told you that for us now only the centre of gravity
of the rocket determines matters. For us the des-
tination of our flight is always ‘ahead’ and the
place which we have left, this time accordingly
the earth, is ‘behind’ .”
“The rocket is a marvel.”
“It is only the practical application of scientific
knowledge which has long been known.”
“One more marvel which I must ask you to ex-
plain.”
“What is it, please?”
“We are at present exposed to the frightful heat
of the sun’s rays, which are beating down upon
our rocket, unmoderated by any layer of air. How
is it possible that we do not absolutely dry up and
that the metal of our rocket does not simply melt?”
Egon smiled. “That is actually a secret of Mr.
Apel,” he said, “Now we have to endure not only
the extraordinary heat but also, during the night,
the chill of space with its 273 degrees (Centigrade)
below zero. The entire ship is not only painted
black but also covered with a substance which is
absolutely impermeable to heat and cold, so that
here in our cabin, independently of the outside
world, we have at all times the temperature which
we produce for ourselves.”
“How is it on the moon?” asked the American.
“That I cannot tell you. This is the first visit
there for me.” The smile which had played about
Egon’s mouth at these words vanished again. “The
astronomers hold different views. If Horbiger is
correct in his certainly very ingenious theory of
congelation, the moon is an absolutely frozen body,
without any atmosphere, having at all times the
pleasant temperature which I mentioned, 273 de-
grees below zero.”
Korus, who had already become an enthusiastic
science student, said sorrowfully, “Then even if
we arrive there and might be able to land, getting
out of the rocket would be impossible. In such cold
we would certainly freeze to death in a fraction of
a second,”
“That is not quite correct. Just because there
is no atmosphere there, the cold cannot be trans-
mitted to us, provided we wear over our skins a
suit of the same material, impervious to heat, as
the covering of the rocket, so that we do not give
off our own bodily heat. Of course we must also
wear absolutely airtight diving helmets covered
with the same material and having oxygen cylin-
ders in them, to make breathing there possible for
our lungs.”
Now the American had a question: “One last
point. In this cabin there is at all times good air.
Therefore it is probably constantly renewed by
artificial addition of oxygen. But now you say
that we have only a few more oxygen cylinders.
Then a time willl soon come when we shall very
simply suffocate.”
“Not at present.”
“How so?”
“Here we have followed further developments
of the plans and ideas of Hermann Oberth. The
consumed air flows through a black tube filled with
potassium hydroxide, which runs along the shady
side of the rocket. In this all the impurities are
deposited. Only the purified oxygen and nitrogen
are conducted to the sunny side, are warmed again
there, and return once more into the cabin as per-
fectly good air.”
“Then it is an eternal cycle which is carried on.”
Meanwhile Korus had been looking intently out
of the window.
“Where are we actually?”
“That I can tell you with fair exactness. Apart
from the initial velocity caused by the explosion,
which could not be recorded at all, we travelled
during the first two hours, as long as we still
had fuel, at the rate of 3600 kilometers an hour.
Since the fuel gave out, our motion has become
constant at 3000 kilometers an hour. Since we
have now been about six hours en route, we have
gone about 20,000 kilometers.” *
“And how far is it to the moon?”
“The moon is about 360,000 kilometers from
the earth. If we keep going at the rate of 3000
kilometers an hour, we should need therefore
120 hours for our trip, or, in round numbers, five
days.”
“And for how long a time have we food and
drink?”
“It is accidental that we have any, because
I expected to be only two hours en route. If Apel
nevertheless insisted on my taking along tha
most varied sorts of supplies, it was done to test
out which things were best suited, in case it be-
came a question of longer flights later on. It
was also because he wanted to have the rocket
make its ascent, so to speak, with full war load.”
A Feast In Space
W HILE Egon was busy examining his appara-
tus and making trials of the gyroscopic con-
trols, which showed him that the rocket obeyed
every touch of his hand with extreme ease, the
two young reporters set to work to go over the
supplies.
“Damn it, Joe Allister knows the right sort of
things. Here are fifty cans of preserved meat,
here are some vegetables, here is stewed fruit
Here is ship-biscuit — soda water — wine — coffee
— evaporated milk — ^tea — cocoa!”
In truth, it constantly happened that they for-
got about the lessened gravity, picking up the
cans too quickly, so that these floated around
like balloons.
The two young men became more and more
pleased, since they saw that exactly the proper
temperature for them prevailed in the various
wall-cabinets in which they were kept.
The American put his hand on Egon’s shoul-
der, saying, “We have food for at least six weeks,
and now I am hungry.”
“I too.”
* About 12.600 miles.
20
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
Egon roused himself from his thoughts.
“Then we will eat.”
Korus gave a loud cry of joy, as he opened a
new cabinet.
“Here is a whole meal ready. Even a roast
goose.”
Helmstatter stepped up, lifted the goose, and
found under it a sheet of paper, which he read
and at once hid away. There was nothing on it
but the one name “Irene”.
{lUuatration by Paul)
At last they saw the slender body of the rocket-
waiting for them — luminous in the earthshine.
For an instant he had to collect himself, in or-
der not to betray his emotions. Irene Allister
had provided this meal for him. He choked
down his emotion and said, “Let us eat!”
He drew out of the wall the little shelf which
served as a table. The American fetched dishes
and “silver” from the cupboard. Indeed, every-
thing was of unbreakable metal. Korus brought
the roast goose, white bread, and the other deli-
cacies. Of course all had been packed in tightly
closed containers so placed between metal
spring-devices so that the pressure had not been
able to destroy them. Now they all began to eat.
At first they had to accustom themselves to the
fact that whatever they took in hand seemed to
have become incredibly light. The morsels flew
right into their mouths, and when Korus wanted
to carve the goose, the heavy bird seemed to him
lighter than a postage stamp. It was a good
thing for all of them that the ever recurring com-
ical events kept giving them cause for laughter.
Then Korus opened one of the ten champa^e
bottles, which he had found among the supplies.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
21
Likewise these bottles, which were not made of
glass but of metal, like all the rest of the vessels,
had suffered no injury. When Korus now loos-
ened the wire, to open the bottle, the cork flew
with a quite extraordinary violence against the
ceiling, while the champagne shot like a foun-
tain into the air.
“Of course, the carbon dioxide has a much
stronger effect now, too.”
Korus raised his glass, saying, “Here’s to the
first trip to the moon!”
The American drank the toast. Then he re-
filled his glass and said, “Here’s to the first three
travellers to the moon.”
Korus responded, “Here’s to the lucky chance
that brought us together.”
Egon had also emptied the first glass quickly,
but now he merely sipped slowly. He looked
at these two young men. They could not be
much over twenty-five. Carefree youth appeared
in their eyes. Enthusiasm and boyish frivolity
had made them quite forget that they were
doomed to death. He had heard of such young
men, during the frightful World War back in
1918, who, unconscious of danger, obeying only
the feeling of ambition, hastened with song and
laughter to meet the deadly bullet. He could
not speak to them. Their gay spirit cut him to
the heart. Still he could not disturb their mood.
He crept into the narrow room, aft in the rocket,
to investigate the apparatus, to determine what
had been destroyed at the start and what was
still serviceable.
Again a long time had passed. Egon found by
feeling about that he was lying full length in the
narrow room in which the hydrogen pumps were
installed. He had been reflecting. Mentally he
had gone over what had probably happened
when the rocket was so suddenly tom from its
supports and hurled up into space. Of course
the barracks and the Chinese were destroyed.
It was a pity in the case of the poor devils being
victims to opium !
Probably the island was split — ^his heart al-
most stopped. Close by the shore had been an-
chored Joe Allister’s yacht.
The explosion must have cast up a most mons-
trous tidal wave. Surely the little yacht was
covered with fragments and sunk.
Allister was dead — ^Irene was dead!
There was a pain in his heart and yet a feel-
ing of calmness. He himself had no one on
earth. There was neither a mother nor brothers
and sisters to mourn the orphan. By scholar-
ships and tutoring he had painfully secured his
education. There was nobody dear to his heart
except Irene Allister, and she was dead. Com-
pared to him there was no person on earth so fit to
sacrifice his life to science.
He returned to the cabin. It was late at night
by earth standards. Exactly twelye-thirty. The
first twenty-four hours of the trip were over.
The measuring apparatus showed that they had
gone 76,000 kilometers. Korus and the Ameri-
can were sitting at the table writing busily.
“What are you doing?”
“We are writing the reports for our news-
papers.”
Egon smiled sorrowfully and thought to him-
self, “Reports that will never be read.” He seated
himself and on his part wrote briefly the day’s
observations. Then he took from one of the
cupboards a beryllium case which could be
sealed. This container was actually intended for
containing small amounts of hydrogen.
“Are you finished, gentlemen?”
They both handed him their reports. Each
had carefully sealed his manuscript in an envel-
ope, addressed to his newspaper.
Egon smiled again. He added his notes and
sealed the case, which he put away in the cup-
board.
“Now we will sleep.”
All three stretched out side by side on the
padded floor. The light was extinguished, and
soon Egon heard his two frivolous young com-
panions breathing evenly in peaceful sleep. He
himself lay with open eyes. At ever constant
speed the rocket shot through the blackness of
space toward the moon, under the hard and brill-
iant stars.
CHAPTER IV.
Meanwhile
T he festive dinner in Cliff House in San Pran-
circo had ended more quickly than had been
expected. The fact that two of the chief per-
sons, the financier Joe Allister and the pilot
Dr. Egon Helmstatter, had set out so hurriedly
before the great dinner, made it a less notable
affair than had been planned. It was peculiar
that after their departure a sort of unrest and
oppression prevailed in the assemblage. After
the coffee was finally served — it was now about
eleven o’clock in the evening — James Barret, the
owner of the New York Ledger and President
of the American Press Association, rose and
tapped his glass.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “1 have a
proposal to make to you. We are all too uneasy
to do any more dancing. It would also be idle to
go to bed for two or three hours. Three hours
ago Mr. Allister and Dr. Helmstatter set out for
New Atlantis. Let us not deceive ourselves; we
all have an inner feeling that some special reason
caused this hasty departure. Here in this hall
are assembled all the guests of honor who are
to attend the start of the rocket tomorrow in New
Atlantis. Down in the harbor the steamer is al-
ready prepared to leave. The night is perfect.
What do you say to our all going now to the
steamer and getting the captain to make the trip
tonight?”
This proposal met with unanimous approval.
In a certain measure it relieved their minds of
the feeling of uneasiness. At once the automo-
biles started in a long line down to the harbor.
The ship had steam up, and the captain of-
fered no objections. With all the guests of
honor on board, the ship left the harbor at full
steam half an hour before midnight. Even now
the uneasiness among the passengers did not
C6AS0*
“How long is the trip to New Atlantis?”
22
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
“The steamer is very fast. The trip takes
about two hours, but I am sure that we cannot
land until early tomorrow. You may have a
good sleep.”
Nobody thought of going to bed. Each wanted
to be the first to perceive in the sky the lights
of the mysterious island of New Atlantis, hither-
to closed to the world. After all, they could
sleep in the harbor. So the cabins were empty,
and everyone crowded on deck. Five hundred
guests of honor were staring through telescopes
and field glasses into the darkness of night.
An hour had passed, half the time of the trip.
James Barret had just looked at his watch and
noted that it was half past twelve.
Suddenly a light flashed up straight ahead,
followed at once by a mighty column of fire, a
volcano suddenly erupting from the ocean, spit-
ting a whole sea of flames toward the sky. A
pillar of fire which spread out on all sides, and
then — after a few minutes — entirely vanished.
Nobody asked a question, nobody spoke, yet
everyone knew that New AUantis had blown up
with the rocket.
Here and there were a few who timidly won-
dered whether it was only the start of the rocket.
Nobody had seen anything of the rocket itself
in the fearful spectacle of the mass of flame
rushing skyward. But after a few minutes the
roar of distant thunder came over the sea. At
the same time the hitherto placid ocean was sud-
denly wildly stirred up, and a monstrous tidal
wave, topped with foam, raised up the great
steamer, tossed it about like a toy, and pitched
the people on deck in a heap. In another quar-
ter of an hour the sea was as calm and un-
troubled as before, while the night sky was uni-
formly black everywhere. The captain stood on
the bridge, which he had closed to all outsiders.
The ship was rushing on with all the power of
its engines.
New Atlantis had exploded!
Human lives in peril!
The radio operator sat in his room and listened,
but no SOS call came to his ear. Did they need
no help, or was ever3d;hing, the island, the Chin-
ese, the four guard ships, and Allister’s yacht,
completely destroyed?
Finally the second hour passed. There were
a few lights ahead — no great illumination of the
floating island but merely a few red and green
lights of ships apparently at anchor.
The searchlight began to work. Signals were
exchanged. On the bridge the captein had the
loudspeaker connected to inform the gueste of
honor.
“A frightful catastrophe has occurred. New
Atlantis and the rocket have been destroyed.
Human lives are in peril. I urgently request you
to remain quiet in dignified calmness, in order
not to endanger the work of rescue.”
Under Arrest
S ILENTLY the steamer glided up to the other
ships. The certainty of a dreadful catastro-
phe oppressed everyone. James Barret was
sunk in reflection. He alone knew that the rash
reporter All Right had set out in the evening for
the island in the motorboat which Barret had
purchased cheaply. Now his conscience smote
him. Was All Right in some way responsible
for this frightful calamity? Had he done some-
thing rashly?
Now it was bright on the ocean. In the east
the first rays of the rising sun were beginning to
color the heavens. The searchlights of the
steamer illuminated the dreary wa^e of wreck-
age which a few hours before had been the is-
land of New Atlantis. In the midst still floated
on the waves a mighty piece of concrete, the
central part of the floating hemisphere. On it
there rose up the gigantic remains of one of the
towers, a twisted chaos of distorted pieces of
iron, looking like an immense question-mark.
A boat stopped at the ladder of the steamer.
A gentleman painfully climbed up, guided by
sailors, and behind him a lady. They were Joe
Allister and his daughter.
Respectfully everyone made room for them.
Without saying a word, without even lifting his
eyes from the deck, the pale man who had just
lost a million walked down the stairs to the cabin.
Irene walked behind her father, equally silently,
with a handkerchief pressed to iier eyes, so that
people could not tell whether she was weeping
or ashamed.
In another hour the steamer had turned and
set out again for Frisco. There was nothing
more to be done. The survivors, unharmed, and
wounded were safely lodged. Aside from two
Chinese there seemed to be no dead to bewail.
There was murmuring on board.
“The rocket exploded!”
“Probably criminals had a hand in the game.
Helmstatter must have suspected something.
When he arrived, he saw a light in the rocket
and wanted to interfere, but it was too late, he
was destroyed along with the rocket.”
“The Swallow was sunk by the wreckage that
showered on it. It is a miracle that Allister and
his daughter were saved.”
It was five in the morning. They were already
halfway back to Frisco. Some of the passengers
were now sitting on the deck, some were gath-
ered in groups in the saloons. All were talking
in muffled voices.
The captain was in the pilot house when the
radio operator, who had got a relief, entered.
“What is it?”
“A Japanese just put in this message to be
sent. A radiogram to the newspaper Tokyo Asahi
in Tokyo.”
“What of it? Why are you so disturbed?”
“I understand Japanese. Allow me to read
you this telegram before I send it.”
The captain hesitated.
“Disclosure of the contents of a communica-
tion?”
“Captain, I think you will at onde arrest the
Japanese.”
The captain and the radio operator came down
from the bridge. The latter called a steward.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
23
and the captain asked, “What do you know about
the Japanese?”
“He had cabin 273, but apparently he was not
on board at all when we left Frisco. It was only
when we anchored at the scene of the catastrophe
that he suddenly came down stairs dripping with
water and had his cabin showed him. To be
sure, he asserted that he had jumped into the
water in an attempt to save a man, but I am
convinced that he was not on board the ship at
all until he got on at New Atlantis.”
The captain knocked on the door of the cabin.
It was some time before there was an answer and
the door was opened.
Nagao Hazumi, who had occupied the cabin
and brought his luggage there, was now wearing
a suit in perfect condition. But he looked ex-
hausted and weary. Probably he had been ly-
ing asleep on the bed, fully dressed.
“Who are you?”
“Nagao Hazumi, correspondent of the Tokyo
Asahi. Here are my credentials as an invited re-
presentative of the press.”
“You were on board the ship when we left
Frisco?”
“Of course.”
“Presumably I shall be obliged to arrest you.”
“I protest.”
“You seem to have caused the catastrophe at
New Atlantis. It is useless for you to deny it. I
have read your report of your secret visit to the
rocket and your description of the calamity.”
“Then you have violated the secrecy of a com-
munication.”
“As captain I am justified in so doing. I tell
you that you may already consider yourself under
arrest.”
The Japanese smiled.
“I have committed no crime. It is not my fault
that the explosion suddenly occurred. Do with
me what you will. No one can take from me the
glory of being the only journalist in the world
who has seen the inside of the rocket and who
was present when it left.”
“You were alone?”
“You have absolutely no right to interrogate
me.”
When James Barret learned of the arrest of
the Japanese, he drew a breath of relief. Then
his reporter was not to blame.
Good News!
T he steamer was again in Frisco. The prom-
inent persons were assembled in the great
reception hall of the Allister house. Dispatches
kept coming in, the first being from the Lick
Observatory :
“Tonight twelve thirty in ocean about hundred
miles west of Frisco supposed location of island
New Atlantis saw ascent of rocket with vigorous
production of flames. Rocket shot like light-
ning straight up leaving field of vision after few
seconds. Made vain attempts to see it later in-
side atmosphere and in space.”
Allister stared at the telegram.
“Then the rocket did not explode?”
Waldemar Apel said quickly, “The beryllium
covering was of almost indestructible hardness.
' Besides, the force ot the explosion was directed
mostly downward, and the thin supports of the
rocket offered no serious resistance to its depart-
ure.”
Now Irene stepped up.
“Then there is hope?”
“At least the certainty that the rocket started.”
“And will it return?”
“That is in the hand of fate.”
“How long a time has passed?”
“Six hours since the start.”
“In this time it must have gone around the
earth presumably several times at least.”
A radio message was sent to Madagascar, re-
ceiving an immediate reply: “Nothing seen of
rocket here.”
Radiograms came from all the ships at that
time on the ocean between America and Asia.
Many had noticed nothing at all. A number had
seen a flash. Neither any ship nor any of the
observatories had seen anything of the descent
of the rocket, but some did indeed confirm the
report of the Lick Observatory as to the ascent.
A whole squadron of airplanes flew from
America and a simultaneous one from Japan,
which examined the ocean.
The rocket had ascended, withstanding the
first shock, and it was actually improbable that
it would explode in the air. If it descended on
the ocean, it could easily float, being much too
light to sink. On land the wreckage would be
visible. All the world was extremely excited.
No one could guess where the rocket had de-
scended, and still no news came.
Finally, toward evening, came a radiogram
from a Japanese steamer. Something had been
fished out of the sea, a crushed and battered ob-
ject, but quite certainly a part of the rocket.
At once Waldemar Apel took a plane, to visit
in person the Japanese steamer, which had
headed for Hawaii. He returned during the
night, bringing a monstrous but evidently very
light bundle.
Of course everyone was still assembled in the
Allister house. They marvelled at the contented
face shown by the returning Apel.
“Do the fragments come from the rocket?”
“Yes and no. It is the auxiliary rocket, which
was to be and had to be cast off at a certain
height, in any event. It proved perfectly ser-
viceable. Thus far the flight therefore seems to
have been successful.”
There was breathless excitement. While Apel
was talking with Allister, the rest all whispered
together.
“The flight was successful, but where is the
rocket?”
Some cynic laughed, remarking, “The opera-
tion was successful, but unfortunately the patient
died.”
The Japanese Nagao Hazumi was interrogated
before the court.
“I am no criminal, and I have nothing to con-
ceal,” said he. But recognizing that suspicion
for the actual starting of the rocket might rest on
him and that some one of the three presumably
had accidentally turned some of the levers, he
24
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
admitted that the German Kurt Korns and the
American All Right had been with him.
Since the Tokyo newspaper at once took his
part and posted security for his appearance if
wanted, he was again released and hurried with
the judge to the Allister house.
7 ' ^ /;/
A short consultation was held, after which
Waldemar Apel mounted a table in the centre
of the room.
‘'Speech! Speech! Tell us all about it!”
“Ladies and gentlemen, there is no doubt that
the start of the rocket was successful and that
thereby the first part of our task has been ac-
complished.”
Agreement, laughter, contradiction.
“The first part of our problem is solved, the
construction of the rocket has proved excellent.
The fact that the auxiliary rocket was cast off
according to plan proves this. We are in no way
responsible for the fact that the hands of — I
must admit, not malicious but frivolous — young
people caused the start very prematurely. On
the contrary, the very fact that the rocket was
not destroyed under these conditions is a proof
of its efficiency.”
Irene Learns the Truth
I NTERRUPTIONS : “But where is it now ? ”
Apel’s voice had become very serious and
solemn. “It is as good as certain that it has not
{Illustration by Paul)
Instantly there was an explosion. Egon and the
American were hurled through the door.
returned to the earth. Probably the excessive
shock of this unpremeditated start stunned the
three occupants. From the admission of Mr.
Nagao Hazumi we now know that besides the
pilot also the German reporter Kurt Korus and
the American All Right have taken the trip,
though very much against their will. This prob-
ably prevented them from managing the controls
at the right time. Perhaps they only got control
of the rocket after it had left the vicinity of the
earth and decided to risk a flight into space.”
“To the moon.”
“Yes, perhaps to the moon.”
More interruptions: “Or else, and this is the
right idea, the three luckless fellows were in-
stantly killed, and the rocket has become a fly-
ing coffin!”
“That is also possible, but in this case the
blame rests on the two reporters alone.”
He jumped down from the table, and there
was a storm of voices. Excitedly they argued
pro and con. News poured out into the city.
Loudspeakers had received Apel’s speech and
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
25
were roaring it out in streets and public squares,
in the theatre.
Radio waves took it across the sea. In the en-
tire world, starting from Frisco, in Europe, Afri-
ca, Australia, everywhere at the same hour
thousands and millions of people were listening
to the words of Waldemar Apel:
“Human beings have flown into space. The
first travellers to the moon.”
“The space rocket is en route !”
The next morning the newspapers of the world
all gave monstrous pictures of the three travellers
through space.
Nagao Hazumi was wild with rage that he
had not gone, too. What was his report about
the rocket now compared with the f^me of his
two colleagues? Bets were made as to the life
or death of the bold travellers. The newspapers
were filled with the speculations of all the
learned men on earth.
Constantly squadrons of planes went out lo
sea. The wild mountainous lands in Asia were
examined. An international agreement was
made that all commercial radio communication
was to cease at once and that every receiving
station was to tune in immediately, if any news
at all arrived about the space rocket. Reports
poured in but proved to be mere fancy. Every
passing meteor was thought to be a rocket. The
whole next day passed without any telescope
succeeding in seeing anything of the fliers and
without their descending.
The excitement became almost immeasurable,
but the rooms of the Allister house in Frisco re-
mained closed and its dwellers refused to re-
ceive any visitors.
Irene Allister stepped into the room which
Waldemar Apel was occupying during his stay
in Frisco and in which packed suitcases now
stood.
“A word, Mr. Apel.”
The old man was amazed at her determined
face.
“Do you believe that the men in the rocket are
still alive?”
The old engineer looked into the girl’s face
and smiled understandingly. She was asking
about the three but meant only one,
“I hope so?”
She became more insistent: “Can they be
alive?”
“Why not? The rocket withstood the shock,
and why should the cabin have suffered? Of
course 1 cannot know what has happened, but I
have hopes.”
“Then you think it also credible that they will
return?”
“If the steering apparatus has remained ef-
fective — ”
She took his hand. “Mr. Apel,” she said, “is
there no means, no possibility, to help them?”
“I do not know. For now there would be only
the task of completing the second rocket, which
is built except for the putting together of the
equipment. Then we could go to their aid, in
case we should in some way recognize that they
needed help.”
“Why isn’t that being done?”
“Perhaps your father has lost a million in the
rocket. The after-searches have consumed a
few hundred thousands. He is not willing; to
give any more money.”
“How much is needed?”
“If I had a quarter of a million at my disposal
to-day, the second rocket could be ready to start
ithe day after tomorrow.”
“Where is it?”
“At my private observatory on Mt. Atkinson on
the edge of the Rockies. I built it there to make
the experiment of starting from a mountain with
the second rocket.”
“Has father refused the money?”
“Yes.”
“And is this why you are leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Is this second rocket the only means of help-
ing the first one?”
“Of course.”
“Who should ascend in it?”
“I myself.”
For a moment Irene looked seriously at Apel.
Then she came to a decision.
“Please wait a few seconds for me.'*’
Irene Decides
A pel walked angrily up and down in the
room. He knew Joe Allister. Once this
man had said *no’, nothing could change his mind.
Irene returned and handed him a piece of
paper.
“What is that?”
“A check for two hundred and fifty thousand
dollars.”
Apel’s face lit up. “Did your father actually
do it?” he asked.
“No, he flatly refused. This is my inheritance
from my dead mother. It is certainly alPthat I
have, but I am of age and can dispose of my
money.”
“And you want to do this?”
“I regard it as my duty to save my father’s
honor. Joe Allister cannot do things by halves.”
Again Apel gazed searchingly into her eyes,
and an involuntary blush came to her cheeks.
“There is however one condition.”
“What is that?”
“When you ascend, take me along.”
“That is impossible.”
“You said before that it was impossible for you
to get the money. The money and I go together,
either both or neither.”
“You underestimate what this means.”
“I underestimate nothing at all. I have or-
dered my car, which will be ready in half an
hour. At any rate, I have to give up saying fare-
well to my father, because he would prevent my
going. I am going with you by the fastest route
to Mt. Atkinson. You will at once order by tele-
graph everything necessary to fit out the second
rocket. You will instruct me in everything nec-
essary for being your assistant. You know that I
have studied mathematics and science. I will
not be a troublesome pupil.”
Apel still hesitated. “I dare not, on account
of your father.”
26
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
"Do you dare to abandon your pupil, who has
offered his life for your undertaking?”
Apel put the check in his pocket. “Well, be
it as you wish,” he said.
Then he stepped over to her. “One serious
word. Miss Allister,” he said. “You know I am
old enough to be your father. Is it just an over-
whelming love?”
She became embarrassed, but she shook her
head.
“I do not know whether I love him — love him
so — ”
Then her eyes began to shine.
“But I do know that I envy him from the bot-
tom of my heart, that I should like to be at his
side, that my heart is full of enthusiasm. I be-
lieve in the rocket. Let me have my wish.”
She released her hand from his and stood in
the doorway.
“I shall see you in half an hour.”
Apel gazed after her and straightened up. He
himself had almost lost courage, but the confi-
dence in these two girlish eyes, so full of life,
gave him back his strength and vigor.
CHAPTER V.
The Moon at Last!
A nother day and a half of the flight had
passed. During the last twenty-four hours
Egon had hardly left the steering controls. The
three men were in the greatest excitement, for
the yellow, ever brighter disk of the moon was
becoming larger and larger.
On the evening of the fourth day — ^the fourth
terrestrial day, that is — the moon suddenly be-
came totally different, losing its yellowish light.
It looked monstrous and brilliantly white, like a
vast field of ice, out of which there rose a count-
less number of round craters, some of them very
wide.
At the same time they perceived that their
speed was becoming more rapid, the velocity
meter mounting higher and higher. Likewise
they suddenly saw that the rocket was turning.
They were no longer approaching bow on but
were falling stem first, this being the part where
the centre of gravity was.
The three travellers to the moon felt as though
the rocket had not turned but had stopped for a
moment, wavered, and were then sinking down.
All Right and Korus stood together in terror.
“Now we are lost, after all.”
“Of course we shall get smashed on the moon.”
“Man, can’t you do anything to check the
fall?”
“Haven’t you a parachute?”
With a smile Egon pointed to the velocity met-
er. “See,” said he, “we are floating down very
slowly. The velocity we had in space is now
adapted to the slight force of attraction of the
moon. Anyway, a parachute would be useless,
because the moon has no atmosphere.”
At this moment the velocity meter stood still.
The journey was ended. The doctor made the
metal shields of the windows, which he had
closed, open again. The three men uttered a cry
of astonishment. They were now floating per-
fectly still above the moon.
Egon was very much moved.
“Gentlemen, whether we return or not, this
moment is a turning-point in the history of man-
kind. It is a triumph of science and technology.
Man has conquered space.”
“Shall we be able to land?”
“Certainly, if we dress ourselves properly and
take care to carry with us oxygen to breathe.”
They stood there, unable to tear themselves
away from the sight.
“Let us hurry.”
“No, let us be calm. We will eat and rest.
You know that for thirty hours I have not left
the controls. We must not be too hasty.”
“What if something drives us away again?”
“Of course we shall cast anchor.”
For the first time the air-lock was opened,
which had the form of the connection between
cars on a German express. Egon changed his
clothes, put on his diving helmet, and warning
the other two to stay back, he stepped out. He
cast out the heavy anchor, while for the first time
his eyes took in fully the lunar landscape.
In this splendid moment he wished to be alone.
The preparations for leaving the rocket were
finished. The three pioneers of lunar investiga-
tion certainly looked most remarkable. Next to
their bodies and fitting very snugly, like a second
skin, they wore thin clothing of the material whose
composition was the secret of Waldemar Apel.
This was to protect them from any loss of warmth.
They were not acquainted Avith it and had not
yet tested its effect, but they were given confidence
by the fact that they had suffered from neither
heat nor cold in the rocket, which was covered
with the same substance.
Nevertheless, the next moment was another
leap in the dark, a rash venture.
Was the moon actually nothing but a frozen
lump of ice? Did the deepest cold of space pre-
vail there? If so their death would be certainly
instantaneous, if the material did not prove ef-
fective, likewise if even the tiniest opening or hole
admitted the cold to their bodies. Over this rela-
tively thin garment each wore a leather suit.
Actually they would not have needed any other
clothing. If the artificial skin was impenetrable
to cold, any more clothing was superfluous. Still
they picked out the stout leather clothes which
Waldemar Apel had made for this purpose and
packed in the rocket, not for warmth but to pro-
tect the artificial skin from any injuries and holes.
On their feet they wore heavy boots shod with
thick lead plates. That too was necessary,
in order to bring their centres of gravity down to
their feet. Lastly they fastened on their heads the
large diving helmets which Apel had made. These
also were completely lined with the substance
impermeable to heat. It was done in such a way
that this material, which they called the artificial
skin, fitted around the neck very snugly to the
natural skin. Just this point was very dangerous,
because otherwise the unprotected face would be
struck by the cold.
It had taken Apel’s chemists weeks to produce
from this substance a transparent solution with
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
27
which they could coat the eye-pieces of the helmet
on the inside and make them also safe from the
cold. These eye-pieces were cut from the finest
crystal and were colored like snow-glasses.
Of course the mouth was also cut off from the
outer world. Opposite it, to enable communica-
tion, a telephone diaphragm was set in.
That an oxygen cylinder and an apparatus for
making possible free breathing were included, is
obvious.
Egon Descends
T he three men, who now had more semblance
in looks to prehistoric monsters, were all
ready. The American carried on his back an ax
and a bag of tools. Korus had a similar equip-
ment. Egon carried, on cords likewise covered by
the artificial skin, thermometers, telescope and
field glasses, and surveying instruments, as well
as various other scientific apparatus. Moreover,
each held an alpenstock in his hand. They did
not take along any food or drink. These would
have been useless, because they could not have
eaten or drunk anything without taking off their
diving helmets and therefore instantly freezing
to death.
Egon stepped to the door which led to the air-
lock.
“I shall step out first. In case, in spite of all
our precautions, I should be instantly killed, do
not bother about me but shut the door and think
of your own safety.”
There was a remarkably strange sound to the
speaking and answering through the diaphragm
of the helmet. Moreover, what Egon said was
really foolish. If they did not succeed in finding
on the moon by some lucky chance, by some un-
suspected discovery, a possibility of returning,
then a sudden death was the best thing for them.
Egon now stood in the air-lock and carefully
opened the outer door, after having taken pains in
closing the door leading to the cabin. It was
vitally necessary to use this air-lock with incred-
ible precaution, so that as little as possible of the
air in the cabin should be lost.
At any rate Egon had not felt the cold at all.
He reflected for a moment, bent down to grasp
the anchor rope, and then stood with his feet in
the soft white moss of which the moon seemed to
be covered.
He saw that the heavy anchor who had been let
down had not taken any hold but was lying free
on the ground.
A frightful terror seized him, and for some
seconds thoughts raced through his brain. What
if a storm came now? How did he know whether
there were storms in the moon? What if some
force drove the rocket away? The possibility of
being all alone in this dreadful place, the fright-
fulness of which came to him most overpowering-
ly, filled him with horror.
At this moment he felt that the presence of the
two undesired companions was the greatest bene-
fit that fate had given him.
He wanted to go over to the anchor. He took a
few steps, looked about in surprise, and perceived
that he was already far past it. What a peculiar
way of walking ! It actually was not walking but
a sort of floating along, as though on an immense
spring-mattress, a combination of hopping and
floating.
Every step took him infinitely further than it
would have on the earth. As he tried to jump
over a fissure with his alpenstock, he shot high
into the air and landed twenty meters beyond.
He smiled to himself. It was necessary to learn
how to walk on the moon. First he had to under-
stand using much less of his muscular strength
than on earth, in proportion as was r^uired by
the so much lessened force of attraction of the
moon.
At the same time the considerable weight of his
equipment caused him no trouble at all.
Finally he landed beside the anchor, after much
jumping back and forth, and looked for a chance
to fasten it. This was quite needless, for when
he tried to lift the anchor, he noticed that he could
not budge it, because it had long since been frozen
fast to the ground.
Egon now pulled at the rope and found it easy
to wrap it around the anchorstock, which stood
upright. In pulling the rocket down he worked it
into a depression so only the ends touched the
ground, to avoid its freezing fast to the ground.
Now he returned, reentered the air-lock, shut
the outer door, and loudly called into the cabin :
“Come quickly.”
There was no answer. He repeated the shout,
but nothing stirred. Again he was frightened.
Had something happened during his absence? He
opened the inner door. There the two reporters
were standing right before it, waiting for him.
They had not heard a word, and he thought he
had screamed.
Then all three entered the air-lock. The inner
door was very carefully closed, and they quickly
stood on the moon and looked about.
The sight was full of horrible splendor. At
their feet was not, as Egon had at first thought,
soft moss but rime-frost and pretty ice forma-
tions. A rough ground stretched out about them,
dead and hard, furrowed and traversed by rifts.
The sky was neither blue nor arched, as on
earth. Flat and black, it weighed down on the
moon. Everywhere in the sky were the stars, ex-
tremely brilliant, like sharp, hard, coldly lumin-
ous points. The constellations were of course of
the same shape as when viewed from the earth.
It was striking that they were seeing the stars by
day — the lunar day, that is, which is equal in
length to fifteen terrestrial days.
A Scene of Madness
B ack of them stood the immeasurably bright
sun, but they had no sensation of warmth
from it. Even right under its rays the ice did not
melt. There was merely a very thin layer of mist
over the ground. The sun’s disk itself appeared
of about the same size as it does to the inhabitants
of the earth.
Compared with the almost incomprehensible
distance of about one hundred and fifty million
kilometers lying between the earth and the sun,
the three hundred and sixty thousand kilometers
28
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
which the visitors to the moon had traversed
seemed only a trifle. On the other hand, the
earth, which now appeared to them as a “moon”,
was shining brightly among the fixed stars with a
disk almost four times that of the sun.
The centre of this disk, the ice field of the pole,
shone immeasurably brightly. Just as the moun-
tains of the moon appear when viewed from the
earth somewhat like the face of a man, thus even
the naked eye could recognize from the moon the
different parts of the earth.
For a moment Egon tore himself away from the
mighty spectacle and cast a glance at his ther-
mometer. It was a petroleum instrument which
could measure the degree of cold down to two hun-
dred below zero.
It did not work, it was frozen!
The congelation theory was correct. It was not
necessary to have a better instrument. The chill
of space, two hundred and seventy-three degrees
below zero, was all about them. He straightened
up to tell this news to his two companions. He
was full of admiration for the artificial skin which
was able to protect them from this infinite cold.
At this moment he saw a most remarkable sight.
Korus and the American stood facing each other,
apparently having a lively conversation. They
made more and more violent motions with their
hands and arms, such powerful gestures that they
leaped up from the surface of the moon. They
seemed to be expressing despair and horror. Sud-
denly they began to run in great bounds to the
rocket.
The spectacle would have appeared grotesque
and comical if it had not been so terrible here in
this dreadful scene. The two men, in their evident
haste to reach the rocket, jumped with their
sticks almost as high as a house, floating down
again to the moon. They did not understand what
was happening to them. They would look around
and then jump back again.
Egon could not help thinking that both of them
had suddenly lost their reason. He ran after
them, waving his arms, and caught up with them
just as they finally had reached the air-lock and
were getting in, pulling at the cabin door without
any regard to precaution in opening it.
He was right behind them and shut the inner
door. Now he heard the two men bellowing at
each other at the top of their lungs, “Don’t you
hear me? For heaven’s sake, don’t you hear me?”
But now, when their voices resounded with such
a roar, they became silent and stared at each
other.
“Gentlemen, what is the matter?”
Egon could not understand and was disturbed
at the idea of having two lunatics there with him.
“Outside we were deaf — or dumb — or deaf and
dumb!”
“We tried to talk together. We shouted as loud-
ly as we could, but neither could hear anything.”
Then Egon smiled, though of course the other
two could not see the smile on account of his hel-
met.
“We forgot one important thing, but we have
also made a discovery already.”
“A discovery?”
“You two have just given a striking demonstra-
tion of the fact that there is no atmosphere at
all on the moon. You have spoken, but if there is
no air, then there are also no waves to transmit
the speech vibrations. So even the greatest noise
cannot be heard. Even if the whole moon blew
up, it would occur perfectly silently.”
“Well then?”
“Gentlemen, we must get accustomed not to be
frightened by anything. The first hour of our
stay in the moon has already assured us of three
certainties: the chill of congelation, the absence
of any atmosphere, and accordingly the impossi-
bility of the existence of any living thing on the
moon, anything corresponding in the least to our
ideas of life — no person or animal or even plant
or primary cell. It is a marvellous fact that we
three inhabitants of the earth are the only beings
on this dead heavenly body, the one-time planet
Luna. Let us go out to experience more,”
The three men did not consider for a moment
that they themselves were doomed to death. They
did not even think of looking for some possibility
of rescue. - They were completely absorbed in the
enthusiasm for their infinite field of investiga-
tion.
Now indeed each of them carried with him a
little ivory tablet and a pencil for writing on it.
Again they became rash, leaving the clumsy
leather gloves in the cabin and contenting them-
selves with the artificial skin, which to be sure
was double thickness on the hands. When they
needed to exchange their impressions, they used
writing instead of speech, which was unknown on
the moon.
A Hope for Salvation
T here was a new marvel. On looking about,
it seemed to them that their field of vision
was a very different and much more limited one
than on the earth. Korus shrugged his shoulders,
shook his mishapen head clumsily, and made use
of his alpenstock as a jumping stock. In one
bound he mounted a mass of rock nearly as high
as a house. At once the American followed, with
Egon right behind.
Here too the limit of vision, the horizon, was
barely twelve kilometers in diameter. Egon un-
derstood the questioning gestures of the other
two.
“Of course,” he wrote on his tablet. “The moon
is so much smaller than the earth that the spher-
ical (or nearly spherical) shape that it possesses
is much more evident. That is why the field of
vision is so much more limited.”
They looked about them. They had landed in
the northern part of the moon. The exact place
they could not determine, because they did not
have nautical instruments and anyway would
hardly have understood how to use them, if they
had had such things.
Not far from them, perhaps sixty-five kilo-
meters, a very high mountain appeared to be
located. Egon was able to recognize this on the
lunar map which he carried hung on a cord. They
also noticed that to the west of their position on
the block of ice it was considerably darker, that
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
{Illustration by Paul)
He went through a mighty room, in which tremendous machines revolved
their wheels and raised their iron arms.
W
\''A.ase^ i
30
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
there were deep shadows there and a strange
bluish and reddish shimmer to the edge of the
ice.
While Egon now took his telescope and ob-
served the earth, making comparisons with his
watch as the hours passed, he found out that the
seas and lands of the earth, plainly recognizable
through the telescope, could have served him in
lieu of a clock, as they slowly changed their posi-
tion. This would be well in case his watch ceas-
ed to work, but it was of such perfect manufac-
ture that it required no oiling, which was well,
since it would have been stopped at once by the
freezing of the oil.
He looked about, and again a sorrowful smile
came to his lips, concealed in the helmet. What
harmless frivolous children his comrades were!
The two young reporters had again jumped down
from the rock or rather from the gigantic block
of ice. A spirit of sport had awakened in them.
They were amusing themselves by throwing little
pieces of ice into the air. When they saw the bits
of ice rise up for two hundred meters or more,
they would bound around for joy like rubber balls.
The pieces of ice flew almost out of sight and then
slowly floated down again like tufts of cotton.
In mighty leaps they were playfully engaged
in surpassing by vast margins the best jumping
records on earth. Egon interrupted their certain-
ly very interesting games by writing on his tablet,
“Now we must go back to the rocket and eat.”
He had more serious things in mind than hunger
and thirst, but he knew that these two human
requirements would be most enlightening to the
first lunar sportsmen.
Again they entered the cabin, carefully shut the
air-lock, and took off their helmets. The artificial
skin had done its work well and did not show the
least abrasion.
Now they perceived that the exertion of their
limbs had made them really very hungry. After
they ate, Egon commenced the conversation.
“An idea has come to me which may perhaps
prove our salvation, our only hope is to get hydro-
gen and oxygen, to refill our apparatus with the
necessary mixture of gases. As you saw, I brought
some snow along and I have melted it on our
electric stove. It became water, but unfortunate-
ly we have no equipment here for decomposing
the water into its chemical constituents. Still I
do not think it impossible that we might find at
least one of these two substances alone in the form
of snow. There is an opinion that in the depths
of the so-called lunar craters there sometimes
occurs, if not an atmosphere, still some hydrogen
mist at certain times. We must look for this.
That is why I am in favor of sleeping now and
undertaking a long trip tomorrow. Look at the
map of the moon. About sixty-five kilometers
from here lies a high mountain. It is Pico, who
belongs to the so-called Plato system and is about
a thousand meters high. I was pleased to see by
your sport how quickly we can get along by great
jumps. I am sure that in a few hours we can
reach the mountain.”
The American raised his head. “But tomor-
row,” he said, “we shall be in darkness. The moon
rotates, and so tomorrow we shall be on the side
turned away from the earth.
Egon laughed. “You are right and wrong,”
said he. “My wish is to get to this part of the
moon which is turned away from the earth, for
I hope that we shall find there what we need. If
you had had more to do with astronomical mat-
ters, you would know that in spite of its rotation
the moon always keeps the same side turned to-
ward the earth and that the other side is a mystery
forever hidden from us dwellers on earth. Other-
wise the so-called face of the moon would not
always remain the same. Therefore it is my in-
tention first to climb the mountain and then to
see whether it is possible for us to get a look into
the part of the moon turned away from the earth.
We will sleep now and start out early tomorrow.
Certainly it will be necessary to eat and drink as
much as possible tomorrow morning, for en route
we can under no circumstances eat anything at
all. For that reason we shall perhaps be forced to
go without food for twenty-four hours or more.”
Two Days Left!
B oth of them smiled depreciatingly.
“Is that all there is to it?”
Korus put on a sorrowful expression and said,
“I am bitterly disappointed.”
“Why?”
“Because we are destroying a great hope for
the world. The moon is dead; there are neither
men nor animals in the moon. We have accom-
plished something incredible, and it is useless.
Why visit the moon? Why spend many millions to
travel through space to prove that the moon is
a perfectly useless body?”
“Not entirely so. It would be wonderful to
construct an observatory on the moon and be able
to study the stars and their conditions without
being hindered by our atmosphere. Think how
it would be if our plans should succeed! An
observatory on the moon ! A building of the same
material as our rocket, covered with the artificial
skin, with oxygen and nitrogen for breathing, per-
haps obtained from the lunar snow, so that there
would be a good atmosphere in this building,
which we could construct as large as we liked.
Think of a number of persons in this building,
constantly connected with the earth by rockets.
Astronomers investigating space, perl^ps prov-
ing the fact that other planets can be inhabited.
The moon as a sort of halfway port, let us say,
for terrestrial travel into the immensity of space
— the moon as the terminal of terrestrial local
traffic, from which the great perfected space ships
will set out for other planets.
“Consider further. From this secure house as
a starting point or base, mining engineers could
penetrate the depths of the moon. Under the
covering of ice, the thickness of which we cannot
determine, there is a solid nucleus. Who knows
what it consists of? It may contain precious
metals or even metals which are still totally un-
known to us and which may direct industrial con-
ditions on the earth into entirely new channels.
The very fact that here and in space gravity has
hardly any effect makes it possible to bring great
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
31
loads without trouble from the moon to the earth.
Consider all this, consider the many possibilities,
and see whether you think our journey useless 1”
The two became enthusiastic. “Then we have
nothing to do but find the two gases?”
“Nothing but that, yet unfortunately infinitely
much. For if we cannot find the precious snow,
then our plans are rendered vain and we are lost.”
There was a pause, with all three sunk in
thought. Then the American spoke again.
“I am not sure, but this evening, I feel duller
than usual. It seems to me as though the air in
the cabin were getting worse.”
Egon nodded. “It is so,’' he said. “Of course
good air escapes into the air-lock every time we
open the door. It is also possible that the fact
our rocket is standing still may affect the purify-
ing apparatus.”
“We will use an oxygen cylinder.”
“We cannot. In all we still have seven such
cylinders. Each of us needs one each day. There-
fore we have two days left to live on the moon and
one cylinder over!”
For a moment the two were terrified, but then
Eorus said, with an effort to give conviction to
his words, “We must find the snow tomorrow.”
Egon agreed, “We must find it.”
The American yawned and stretched out on the
floor. “All righCthen we will find it,” said he.
A little later the two reporters were lying side
by side and sleeping as cheerful as young people
can. Egon stood at the window, from which the
metal shutters were slipped back, and looked out.
The moon ! This wide expanse, covered with rime-
frost and slight mist that crept along the ground,
this place of icy ground and eternal stillness, of
motionless immeasurable nothingness, was the
moon. The great puzzle of mankind. The melan-
choly friend of the dwellers on earth, in reality
their greatest enemy. The moon, the cause of the
ebb and flow of the tides. The moon, which had
been slowly coming closer and closer to the earth,
until finally the day should come when it would
shatter into a storm of ice and a hail of rock,
bursting upon the earth and causing a new deluge,
perhaps a new destruction of mankind.
And he, Egon, was a human being, a living,
breathing, young man, whom rashness of ng.ind
had brought here and who, unless a miracle oc-
curred, had only forty-eight hours more to live.
CHAPTER VI.
Ghost Shapes on the Moon
M any preparations were necessary for the
great trip on the moon. After they had in-
tentionally had a long sleep, they spent almost
all the next day getting ready. That means the
earthly day: on the side of the earth turned to-
ward them, on which they eould plainly see the
American continent, it became night, while the
lunar day (of fifteen earthly days) still had about
seventy-two hours remaining.
They ate, bathed in water made by melting
lunar snow, and carefully considered everything.
They were very cautious in the selection of their
food. They avoided all unnecessary liquid and ate.
of the numerous preserved foods which were keep-
ing perfectly fresh, almost nothing but some ten-
der meat. They did consume a great tin of frozen
oysters which they found.
They had to manage to secure the highest pos-
sible nutritive value with the least possible waste
matter. The impossibility of opening their arti-
ficial skins even for a second forced them during
the entire long trip ahead of them to give up all
eating and also to suppress all human needs.
They were again equipped as on the first day.
It was entirely indifferent at what hour they
started, since it was light on the moon.
The journey was far from simple. On the map
they had determined that the high crater-moun-
tain lay some seventy kilometers northward, but
of course they could not use the terrestrial com-
pass. They had no idea how the compass needle
would behave on the moon. Thus they had only
the possibility of guiding themselves by the earth.
But the latter was dark this night. By way of
parallel to the terrestrial new moon, there was a
sort of “new earth”. To be sure, the earth was
not invisible but was covered with a soft reddish
light, and this earth, along with the constella-
tions, the position and motion of which Egon had
been observing all day, had to serve as their
guides.
For the three men, now well rested, the trip
was at first splendid. They did not feel like hu-
man beings but like giants. With light springy
strides they hurried on, not feeling the weight of
their loads at all. With their alpenstocks they
leaped readily over rifts ten and fifteen meters
wide. If an}rthing put a damper on their delight
in travelling, it was simply the fact that they
could not converse together. Again and again
Egon, who often stopped to make observations,
had to hurry after his frivolous young compan-
ions and admonish them in writing not to leap
too rashly. A fall into one of the deep crevasses,
perhaps causing broken bones, would have been
terrible.
At first they felt as though they were jumping
along on springy rubber cushions. They had the
sensations of unpractioed skaters not yet able to
keep their balance.
The region became wilder. Immense blocks
were heaped up to make steep slopes and hillsides.
A mighty mountain towered before them. Their
jumping had to be done more cautiously, but even
the mountain offered them absolutely no trouble.
It took an hour and a half before they had reached
the summit, which now proved to be an extensive
ridge.
Again they beheld an impressive sight. The
huge so-called crater of Plato lay before them.
The mountain wall sank down in immense icy
steps, going steeply down for several thousand
meters to a vast plain. It looked like a frozen
ocean, on which little islets rose up, as well as
very tiny craters looking almost like ships on this
ocean.
It was the mightiest and most superhuman
skating rink that a fantastic imagination could
picture to itself. The crater of Plato, which when
seen from the earth presents almost the impres-
sion of a volcano, proved to be a plain almost
82
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
a hundred kilometers across, which appeared low
only in comparison with the mountains of the wall
about it, whereas the sharp light reflections show-
ed it otherwise to terrestrial telescopes. In this
plain the spherical shape of the moon was plainly
evident. To the north higher mountains rose.
The lunar evening and the closer proximity of
the edge of the moon, that is the limit of the half
which we can see from the earth, made the oblique
sun’s rays produce huge shadows. Stretches which
looked like newly fallen snow alternated with
other stretches which appeared grey or very dark.
Where light rime covered the ground, the glitter
of the ice blended with the grey of the shadows
to make dark tones which shaded off into black.
Great fragments cast dark shadows and made
enchanted giant forms or huge monsters on the
frozen slopes. The latter themselves now pre-
sented the appearance of vast lava beds which
had suddenly frozen to ice, in the midst of an
eruption. A most uncanny sight! This dead
world, this complete silence, this motionlessness,
and over everything, slowly moving along, the
shadow pictures of colossal ghostly beings.
The Coming of the Meteor
E gon had often bent over to see whether loose
snow were present on the icy surface, but he
had found none. He pointed with his hand and
they continued on their way. They went north-
ward along the ridge. The indentations became
wilder and more jagged. More and more fre-
quently they encountered wide deep abysses into
which they had to climb. It was well that the
American had wrapped around his shoulders the
lasso which Apel had put in the rocket for con-
tingencies.
Now the going was more difficult. They had to
tie themselves together and jump at the same
time. On the earth such travelling would have
been simply impossible. Hours passed, and they
went higher and higher toward the north. The
mountains became wilder and greater, the shad-
ows longer and longer. At times they had to
pause, and Egon always determined that there
was no loose snow either up on the heights or
down in the low places.
They had been eight hours en route. Eight
hours of uninterrupted climbing, jumping, and
walking. Behind them was such a march as no
person on earth would have made. Now they were
again on the top of a ridge, where they sat down.
On the moon, with its chill of space, it was quite
indifferent whether they were high or low, in the
north or on the equator. They themselves, due to
their artiflcial skins and their oxygen to breathe,
were like little individual worlds. The differences
in temperature caused by the solar radiation or
by night were imperceptible to them.
Up on this summit, which, already far north of
Philolaus, was not even marked on Egon’s map,
not only was Egon seized with the greatest ex-
citement but also the feeling of an extraordinary
moment came over his young comrades as well.
To the south, from which they had come, lay a
deep twilight, gradually becoming brighter, until
far in the distance the mountain peaks whi^h they
had crossed hours before shone in the brightest
and most glorious sunshine. But on the other
side it was absolutely black. As totally black as
if a wall blocked vision here. Even the stars,
which here too shone down from space in their
hard brilliance, could not send a gleam of light
into this half of the moon, now temporarily turn-
ed from the sun and always turned from the
earth.
There stood the three men, hand in hand, for-
getting their weariness. Their souls quickened at
the immensity of the thought that they were the
first sentient beings, the first men, to whom it
was granted to gaze into the nightly blackness of
the half of the moon eternally invisible to the
dwellers on earth.
They were sitting again on a block of ice, aware
that their journey had come to an end here, be-
cause it was useless to descend into the night. But
they did not consider that the aim of their journey
had been vain, they did not think of the fact that
ten hours of a frightful return march lay before
them. They were unable to tear themselves
away.
Suddenly it became brighter. They looked up.
A little star, far brighter than the others, was in
the sky. Its light became more and more intense,
and it rapidly came nearer.
“A meteor, a shooting star!”
All three knew what it was. They saw the
meteor speeding quickly on toward them. They
might perhaps have felt a warmth, but the airless
space here remained unmoved, whereas on earth
a fearful cyclone would certainly have been pro-
duced.
It took only a few seconds. They stood close
together. Their hearts almost stopped beating.
They felt as though the meteor would strike them
and crush them. For a few instants everything
became as bright as day. It showed a landscape
exactly like that over which they had travelled,
full of mountains and abysses, full of white ex-
panses and towering craters. All this appeared
out of the darkness, and then the meteor struck.
It struck the moon, tore up fragments of ice and
rock, and bored a huge hole. But all this hap-
pened silently, as if in a picture cast on the screen
of the silent movies.
Egon shouted aloud for joy, although he knew
that no one could hear his voice. For some sec-
onds the spectacle was of indescribable beauty,
but this beauty filled him with a feeling of infin-
ite good fortune. The meteor had smashed into
countless pieces, and wherever these little white-
hot fragments struck, they lit up a thousand
times more brightly, burning for a few seconds
with a very luminous flame, only to go out again
very quickly, overcome by the cold.
This had lasted only a few moments, and again
the black world of night extended before their
dazzled eyes. It was now so dark about them
that Egon could not even write, but he beckoned
with his hand, took a little electric flashlight,
which he had brought along in spite of the head-
shaking of the two reporters, lit it, and began
with quick steps to go down the mountain. The
other two followed hesitantly.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
33
It was a relatively gentle slope on which Egon
now descended into the depths like a mountaineer.
The two had to stay above, for about them it was
dark, and they could not have ventured following
him into the abyss. ,
The Long, Long Road
T WO hours passed, during which Korus and the
American had to stand idly up there and
simply watch the tiny light of the flashlight, the
only thing they could see in this absolute dark-
ness, moving about very far from them.
At last they perceived that the little dot of
light was again approaching them. Two more
hours passed, while Egon was very slowly climb-
ing the mountain, apparently with difficulty.
He reached them and sank evidently exhausted
to the ground. Now, up here in the twilight, they
saw that the empty knapsack which Egon had
carried on his back was now full to bursting and
that he had also brought along in his left hand a
great chunk of frozen snow.
It took Egon a long time to recover. Then he
stood up and gestured to the others, since it was
too dark for writing, to take off their knapsacks.
At the same time they saw that Egon no longer
had the ax which he had taken down with him.
They did not well understand it all. But when
they saw Egon take off his knapsack, remove from
it some great chunks of ice, strange ice, which
seemed to be granular frozen snow, and when they
saw him break up with the second ax the block
of ice which he had brought under his arm, finally
packing everything into the three knapsacks, they
felt that Egon must have found something im-
portant, not merely some pieces of the meteor.
They set out and travelled again toward the
light. Their bodies were weary, very much ex-
hausted, and were craving sleep. But the feeling
that every step brought them nearer to the light
gave them strength. This chill, harsh, heatless
light seemed like a kind friend to these men who
felt as though they were coming up out of hell.
The going was terrible. Their weary feet
threatened to give out. The hunger of the long
hours weakened them. They were tormented by
thirst. For the first time since they had left the
earth they felt sweat breaking out on them, and
it felt as though this sweat made the artificial
skin stick fast to their bodies.
Again and again they had to rest. Again and
again their eyes closed, and they had to shake one
another to get rid of the overpowering sleep. Al-
most twenty-four hours had passed since they had
left the rocket, when finally they stood again on
the crater wall of Plato.
It already almost seemed to them as though
they were at the end of their journey, yet between
them and the rocket was still almost seventy kilo-
meters. Two long days of tramping, if they had
been on the earth. At least it was again bright
about them, and they could write on the tablet,
though with trembling hands.
“We must throw off the knapsacks, we cannot
keep on.”
Egon read this, shook his head, and wrote, “We
must take them with us. I hope that we are
saved.”
This word “saved” had a magic effect. The
other two had become far too much accustomed
to rely on Egon without any question, for them to
have doubted. They rose again and once more
tried to jump.
Now the way was downhill, and this made going
easier, though more slow than at first. Egon had
to collect all his power to find the way again, but
then it seemed to all of them as though they were
already at home, as though all trouble and dan-
ger were over, when at length they saw from a
great distance the slender body of the rocket
waiting for them, just as they had left it, shining
in the earth’s rays.
Exactly twenty-six hours had passed by the
time the three dead-tired men finally stood be-
fore the rocket again and took off their knapsacks,
as Egon directed.
Even now Egon motioned to them to wait an-
other moment. He took the second ax and broke
from one of the chunks of snow-ice a piece about
a hand-breadth across. Of course he had to sac-
rifice the knapsack, for this in the meanwhile had
been frozen with its contents into a single solid
mass.
They went very cautiously into the air-lock and
then rushed into the cabin, while Egon carefully
closed the door again. Now this narrow cabin
was like a pleasant home to them. They removed
one another’s helmets and drew deep breaths,
though the air in the cabin was already pretty
bad. But likewise the oxygen cylinders in the hel-
mets were almost completely used up, so that in
the last hour breathing was very difficult. After
some time they forced their weary hands to open
some tins of food, which they ate without caring
what it was.
All Right and Korus sat on the padded bench
and watched the strange procedure of Egon.
Even during the undressing for dinner he had kept
looking at the little piece of frozen snow-crystals,
which he had placed on the floor. Now he took
a little pair of tongs and held a needle with it,
made it red-hot, knelt down, and very cautiously
held the glowing needle over the frozen mass.
“It does not melt, it does not become water!”
The two did not understand why Egon was so
happy about it, but he again made the needle red-
hot, went quickly over to the lump of ice, and
stuck the still slightly glowing needle into the
mass of snow.
Now the two journalists also jumped up and
watched more closely. Instead of being extin-
guished, thejieedle glowed very brightly and be-
gan to burn with a bluish flame.
The two could not understand. “What does that
mean?” they asked.
Egon had forgotten all his weariness. “We are
saved,” said he. “The meteor has shown us the
way to salvation. This is oxygen snow, frozen oxy-
gen. Pure oxygen, without any mixture of hydro-
gen, for otherwise the mass would have melted to
water or would perhaps have formed detonating
gas. Now we are saved for the present.”
But in this moment, which took a great care
from his mind, his nervous energy had reached
its-limit. He simply lay down on the floor and
went right to sleep. Korus and the American si-
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
«^m
fSWSPB
jfL' -w
i' C<'‘:?‘-‘'!?’^'’Vi3st?,^;
{Illustration by Paul)
Both of them stood as tho turned to stone. There were
gigantic letters in Uie sky— S-O-S!
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
35
lently followed his example. A few minutes later,
if an outsider had suddenly entered the cabin, he
would have seen just three peaceful faces of com-
fortably sleeping men.
An Oxygen Frenzy.
I T was only about three hours later that the
American suddenly awakened and began to
laugh loudly. He laughed so boisterously that
Korus woke up and stared at him.
“What is the matter?”
“It is so incredibly funny!”
Korus looked into his laughing face and also
burst out laughing.
“You are right, it is terribly funny — ^it is a
scream!”
While they were trying to see which could laugh
louder, Egon woke up also.
Korus slapped him on the back and shouted,
“Come on, boy, join in and be happy.”'
At once Egon also began to laugh.
They stood up, forgetting all about sleep and
their weariness. Korus clasped the American
and tried to do the latest negro dancesteps with
him, while Egon — the usually so serious Egon —
accompanied them by singing loudly and beating
time on the electric stove with the tongs.
Matters went on thus for a while, when Korus
suddenly shoved the American back.
“You are crazy!” he shouted.
All Right reddened. “What did you say, fel-
low?” he cried.
Korus evidently was becoming enraged. “Take
that back, you scamp!” he screamed. “You are
to blame for the whole trouble!”
“Look out, little fellow, you can’t call me a
scamp !”
“For Heaven’s sake,” yelled Egon, “give me a
chance to rest!”
Both the others turned to him. “Now you are
starting things!” they shouted. “You have no
buisness to talk to us.”
“It is my rocket.”
“Nonsense, it belongs to Mr. Allister.”
“Be so good as to shut up!”
They all yelled wildly at the same time. Korus
and the American rolled on the floor and wrestled
together. The more uproar they made, the more
common and vulgar their expressions became,
like those of guttersnipes. Apparently all three
had forgotten that they were educated men.
Suddenly Egon, who still had the most self-
possession, saw the little lump of ice on the floor.
It had become very much smaller. He roared at
the others, “The devil, won’t you keep still ?”
Trembling in all his limbs, purple with rage, he
took the bit of ice and threw it out the door into
the air-lock. Then he worked a lever. After a
while their voices suddenly became quiet. The
two fighters were squatting on the floor, with their
clothes almost torn from their bodies. They were
covered with sweat. They gazed stupidly at each
other until Korus finally said, “What happened?”
Egon sank smiling on the bench. “Forget all
about it,” he said, “I am to blame for it.”
“How so?”
“Explain.”
“We simply had an oxygen frenzy.”
“An oxygen frenzy?”
“I told you that we had found pure oxygen. I
left the frozen lump lying here and went to sleep.
The electric warmth of the cabin and the heat of
our bodies slowly changed the frozen oxygen to
gas. Of course this gas was distributed about in
the cabin, and the air, which was already begin-
ning to be poor in oxygen, became far too rich in
it. Excessive amount of this vital gas cause vio-
lent excitement. Mr. All Right dreamed of some-
thing funny, woke laughing, and so made us join
in. That caused our extreme merriment. But
then the excitement increased and we became ir-
ritated. As is always the case when people lose
their self-control, we scolded and beat one another
like street-urchins. It is a good thing that I had
enough intelligence to notice the lessening of the
lump of oxygen and to throw it out.”
Let’s Not Despair ^
W ITH eyes full of astonishment Korus an-
swered, “Probably we would have killed
one another.”
“Maybe, but it would not have needed that to
finish us. An excess of oxygen would finally lead
to stupefaction and to a death by suffocation, just
like too little oxygen.”
They laughed again, but this time it was with
pleasure. They shook hands all around.
“The air is fine now.”
“The apparatus now has the right mixture and
is working as it is supposed to.”
The American sat down on the sofa. “It is
strange,” he remarked, “that I no longer feel
tired.”
“We have had a sort of ozone bath.”
Korus smoothed his hair. “Let’s not bother
about sleeping,” said he. “Come on, doctor, give
us a good cup of coffee.”
“Unfortunately we must start to economize with
our heat. One of the two storage batteries is al-
most exhausted. We have certainly been too free
with its use.”
“What difference,” said Korus with a laugh, “if
we are now saved ? ”
“For the present we have only a reprieve.”
“What does that mean?”
“It is the same as with the man who went out to
look for an egg and found a roast pike.”
“You must put that more clearly.”
“Well, then, we absolutely need hydrogen and
oxygen, to have the possibility of returning to the
earth. Hydrogen I hoped to find, and Heaven has
given us pure oxygen. Gentlemen, it is a price-
less gift. Tomorrow a new trip would have used
up the last three cylinders, and in a few days more
the air in the cabin would also have been used
up, since the apparatus was no longer working,
for want of oxygen.”
“Then we are saved, after all.”
“Yes, for the time being. At least we can
breathe. And if my hope is realized, that all I
have in the three knapsacks is pure oxygen, then
we are provided for on that score. We can keep
filling our cylinders and be sure that we can al-
ways replenish our supply in that crater on the
other side of the moon.”
36
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
“Well then, what more do we need?”
“We have discovered one more thing: the possi-
bility that persons in heat-proof habitations can
live on the moon on the supplies of frozen oxy-
gen.”
“But can’t we leave?”
“No, our rocket engines work with detonating
gas, that is, with the explosive mixture of hydro-
gen and oxygen. If we do not find the former,
then we must remain here.”
Korus replied carelessly, “Then we shall make
a colony on the moon.”
Egon said rather bitterly, “Yes, for as long as
our provisions hold out. According to the rations
thus far used, that will be for two or three weeks
at most.”
Korus shrugged his shoulders. “Yesterday we
had three days left,” said he. “To-day we have
three weeks. I think we have no reason to de-
spair. Gentlemen, let us not allow the good cof-
fee to get cold.”
CHAPTER VII.
Night and New Despair
T he lunar night had commenced. At last it
had suddenly started. One day, when they
awoke, the last light of the sun had disappeared.
All three, fully equipped, were standing in the
outer door of the air-lock, very much surprised.
It was not dark ; on the contrary, in the last few
days, when the sun had a more and more oblique
position in the sky and mighty shadows of the
mountains stretched out everywhere, it had been
darker. Now the shadows had vanished along with
the sun. The earth was in the sky with its dully
luminous disk, yellowish and cold, much as the
moon is to us. Now that the sun had disappeared
with its stronger light, they could recognize all
the more plainly the outlines of the contents on
the earth.
Suddenly the American gave a sob. The others
did not hear it, for he had his oxygen helmet on
his head, and here in the open there were no
waves to carry sound. But they saw by his con-
vulsive movements that something strange was
happening to him. Then he turned and went
again into the cabin, although Egon had forbid-
den them to use the air-lock any oftener than
was absolutely needful.
At first the other two did not notice much. To
be sure, they saw very plainly with the naked eye
that the American continent stood out on the
earth, but their eyes were much more occupied
with what the moon had to offer them.
It was actually ridiculous to talk of warmth on
the moon, which lay at all times in the field of
spatial cold, yet it now seemed to them as though
it must be colder.
The warm tones of the sunlight, which had af-
ter all brought a little variety into this horrible
landscape, making the ice-fields shine, the points
and depressions glow, and the lowlands sink into
gloomy shadow, had vanished.
All about lay the yellowish light of the earth,
over all this monotony, over these almost uniform-
ly round walls of the craters, out of whose midsts
still smaller craters rose. The absolute dead-
ness, the impression of desolation, was now far
more strongly expressed. The hopelessness of
this region was complete. This region which mil-
lions of years before had surely been the scene of
the wildest tumult. One could picture the first
volcanoes bursting out from the rigid mass pour-
ing forth their contents of liquid fire. Within the
lava fields still smaller volcanic tubes had swelled
up like bubbles until everything froze in the infin-
ite cold and in this freezing the shell burst, until
it looked like what now met the eyes of the travel-
lers in the harsh, uniform and melancholy light
of the earth. It was a dead heavenly body which
had never possessed life. It had passed from
fiery heat to the rigidity of death without ever
forming, as the earth did, a layer of soil which,
fanned by a mild air and moistened by water, be-
came a comfortable home for man and beast and
plant.
It was dead, barren, cold, and horrible for the
living beings who had been brought here. Korus
stood perfectly still. Egon felt a child in his
heart, as though this lunar night were weighing
down on him.
He thought again of the American. While
Korus now leaped from the rocket down to the
moon, picked up bits of ice, and threw them into
the air, probably only to divert himself, Egon went
back into the cabin.
The American had taken off his oxygen helmet
and was sitting on the bench, his hands before
his face, weeping.
“What is it, Mr. All Right?”
The latter started and stared at him. Forcing
a twisted smile, he said, “O nothing.”
Egon put his hand on his shoulder and said,
“We have become friends, after all.”
Suddenly the American threw his arms around
him. This very man, who was always brief in
speech, who always seemed a bit distant toward
the two Germans, gave vent to the sudden out-
burst of a deep feeling: “I have seen my home!”
Egon understood, the American needed to say
no more. But he also recognized at once the dan-
ger of what was going on. He himself knew how
a few moments before, outside, he had been held
by such thoughts.
“Stop, sir, we must keep our heads. We must
return, and we shall return.”
The American laughed loudly, saying, “You do
not believe it yourself.”
“You are ungrateful. Kind Heaven has given
us the oxygen, and we shall also find the hydro-
gen.”
The bitter look on the American’s face did not
vanish. “If we do find it,” said he, “the rocket
is damaged. The apparatus was broken at the
start, and we are lost. You know that as well as
I do. It is best for us to end matters.”
“But, All Right!”
The American bent close to his ear, for Egon
also had taken off his helmet.
He whispered very softly, “What do you say to
this? We won’t say anything to Korus. We will
have a good dinner and drink champagne. Much
champagne, all we have. Then you and I — harm-
less little Korus need not know anything about
it — ^will fetch in the big lumps of oxygen and start
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
37
the electric heat. The champagne will make us
merry, and so will the oxygen at first. Then we
will go to sleep and suifocate and awake no more.
All will be over.”
“We cannot do that,” cried Egon.
Then All Right took him by the shoulders, with
his face close to Egon's, and gazed at him. With
horror Egon saw that his eyes had taken on a
strange, unsteady, wild appearance.
The American muttered to him, “Do you want
to wait until we are all insane? I am becoming
so already. This morning ! plainly feel that I
am becoming crazy.”
Egon comprehended the danger of this moment
and said very firmly and convincingly, while he
looked fixedly at him, “Get rid of such thoughts.
I have been studying the map and the books about
the moon, and I think I know very well where
we shall find hydrogen. Take your helmet and
come along. We have no time to lose.”
At these loud, energetic, commanding words the
American shrank together for an instant. Then
he rubbed his hand over his forehead, and at once
there returned to his eyes a happy light.
“Do you know where there is hydrogen?”
“Yes.”
It was evident to Egon that at any rate he had
to speak definitely and assuredly.
All Right became actually joyous. “Then let
us be quick,” said he. “Of course I am ready.”
Before putting on his helmet he took Egon again
by the shoulder. “Don’t say anything about it
to Korus,” he said. “It is my nerves. It is the
result of what happened to me in an explosion,
and I should not like to have him laugh at me.”
“My word of honor on that.”
Now the attack seemed over, and the American
was again his former self. He seemed to have
forgotten everything, but Egon still felt the ter-
ror in his heart.
At this moment Korus put his head through the
door, asking, “Aren’t you coming at last?”
“We are coming. Mr. All Right’s helmet wasn’t
working properly.”
**I Believe We Have Found Hydrogen”
T hey went over the ice, this time toward the
south. Again they came to high mountains
with steep peaks and abysses. Though the pion-
eers did jump up easily, those mountains were so
traversed by rifts and chasms that on the earth
they could hardly have been climbed at all.
Sometimes it happened that one of them slipped
and fell forty or fifty meters. They had long
given up tying themselves together, since they had
seen that even such a fall was not serious on the
moon, because the one falling floated down gently
and landed with a barely perceptible shock.
They had travelled for four hours and were^
now standing on an elevation. Here a crater
landscape, extraordinarily wild in itself, was cut
by deep deep rifts and fissures. Egon wrote on
his tablet “The Alpine Valley,” which was the
name he had found on the map.
The sight of this wild scenery of craters and
ever more craters, of round walls forming wide
circles, with countless tiny craters strewed about
within them, this ever similar horrible picture,
would have depressed their minds far more than
the first sight of the lunar night that morning, if
the trip they had just taken, the good exercise of
this everlasting climbing over the mountain-tops,
had not refreshed them and given them uncon-
sciously a joyous feeling of victory. Such leap-
ing over abysses and climbing almost inaccessible
mountains gave them the consciousness of a su-
perhuman power. Supermen are not extremely
ready to give in. Close before them was a very
steep descent into an extraordinarily deep place,
and Egon used the telescope,
“It seems to me that there is grey frozen snow
down there,”
The American read the tablet, took a look down
through the telescope, and began to slide down
the steep slope before the others could prevent
him.
It made them dizzy to see All Right descend
like lightning for hundreds of meters on the mir-
ror-like surface. Then he jumped and beckoned
to them from a ledge.
Egon and Korus followed. It was only when
they stood below that they saw the danger in
which they were. The ledge which they had
thought from above to be the bottom of the crater
was only very narrow. From there it went down,
extremely steeply, in a manner impassible even
with lunar conditions, into a black abyss so deep
that they could not see the bottom in the dull light
of the earth. But before them, on the little ledge,
there actually lay a grey mass which was no
regular ice but rather frozen snow.
This time they had not brought along the large
ax. They had only one now, because Egon had
left the other in the oxygen fields. But they had
little hatchets, with which they broke off a chunk
of frozen snow and divided it up for their knap-
sacks.
Again Egon wrote on the tablet : “We need not
take too much; it is not a long trip to this place.”
The ascent was very painful. They had simply
slid down, and now they had to cut every step of
the way with the hatchets . It took hours for them
to reach the top, but then they returned with
rapid strides to the rocket.
The American was again quite his old self and
seemed to have forgotten his fit of depression.
When Egon now broke off some fragments from
the lump of snow to test in the cabin, the other
two remained outside and amused themselves by
using their alpenstocks as javelins and throwing
them great distances.
Egon was content that they should remain out-
side and entered the cabin. When he switched
on the electric light, he felt for the first time how
dark it had been outside. He again heated a
needle red-hot and stuck it into the snow. It went
out again at once, but there was likewise no for-
mation of a drop of water about the glowing
needle. It was therefore neither ordinary ice nor
oxygen.
In his joy Egon went to the air-lock and called
ont, “I believe we have found hydrogen.”
38
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
AiS Explosion
T hen he went back into the cabin, where he
had placed the lump of snow on the hot elec-
tric stove, and looked for the spectroscope.
Korus and the American had been rather far
off, looking for their “javelins,” and they had of
course not heard Egon’s call. They had however
seen him up in the air-lock of the rocket and had
supposed he was beckoning to them.
They went slowly over to the rocket, where
Korus was the first to enter the cabin. He gave a
loud cry and beckoned to the American. The doc-
tor, who had of course taken off his helmet during
his investigations, lay stretched full length on
the fioor, apparently dead.
“Don’t take off your helmet — poisonous gas
here — you can’t breathe hydrogen — get the oxy-
gen, quick!”
After they had made their discovery of oxygen,
they had filled their cylinders. Now Korus open-
ed one and held the open valve close to the mouth
of the apparently dead man, so that the pure
oxygen fiowed into Egon's lungs. The American
wanted to help and had the feeling that Korus
could not see well. He felt for his flashlight but
instead found in the pocket of his leather suit a
box of matches. Thoughtlessly he struck one.
Instantly there was an explosion. Egon and the
American were hurled through the door, which
had not been entirely closed, into the air-lock. At
the same time the great glass window broke and
the fragments flew outward. Then it was all
over.
Egon, still completely stupefied, sat up on the
floor. 'The American was leaning weakly against
one of the walls. But Korus, who had been given
careful instructions by Egon as to the rocket and
other scientific matters, had presence of mind.
Quickly he seized a lever and made the metal
plates fall in front of the broken window. He
carefully closed the outer door, turned on the elec-
tric heater, and likewise shut off the oxygen cylin-
der, which during the last few minutes had been
pouring its contents out into the cabin.
All this had taken place with incredible rapid-
ity. The air was again fit to breathe, and the
chill of space had not entered the cabin during
these few moments to such an extent that the
heater could not warm it up quickly.
Only now were the three able to recover from
their fright. But the American, who had indeed
removed his helmet like the others, sat again on
the bench with staring eyes.
Egon had risen, feeling a painful headache but
able to think clearly again. He pressed Korus’s
hand, while the latter inquired, “What actually
happened? I found you lifeless on the floor.”
Egon reflected. “I had put the ice on the warm
plate,” said he. “It was not hydrogen, at least
not pure hydrogen. It was chiefly frozen carbon
dioxide. When I became aware of that, I wanted
to hurry out, but it was no longer possible. If
you had come a moment later, if you had not
blown oxygen into my mouth at once, I should
]^ve suffocated.”
“But the explosion?”
“Quite correct. There must have been hydro-
gen, after all. Probably both were hurled up from
the crater in unthinkably early times, freezing at
once to crystals and both being united in the
frozen masses. There must have been hydrogen
in the cabin which united with the oxygen flow-
ing from the cylinder to make detonating gas.
But where did the spark come from which ignited
it?”
“A1 Right struck a match.”
Egon felt all right again. “In here,” he said,
“little harm was done. It is a mercy that the door
was open and that the window pane gave way so
easily. Everything seems to be tight and sound,
for the rocket still keeps in the heat. The explo-
sion was not very violent and simply exerted its
force out through door and window. At any rate,
the incredible hardness and strength of the beryl-
lium covering has stood another test brilliantly.”
They looked about in the cabin. The only dam-
age done was to trifling things.
“Now we will eat, and after that we will put
on our helmets and examine the entire rocket on
the outside, to see whether we discover any dam-
age.”
While opening a meat tin, Korus said, “Then
have we found hydrogen?”
“Then can we go away?” asked All Right.
The doctor shook his head. “This snow we can-
not use. It is evidently too full of carbon diox-
ide. We could not convert it into a gas without
continually running the risk of being suffocated.
You are right, there is hydrogen here, and there-
fore it will surely be present in a better form.
But we must seek further.”
A Madman’s Act
T HEY ate, Korus and Helmstattef with a good
appetite, while the American stared before
him and shoved the morsels into his mouth purely
mechanically.
The German reporter laughed aloud. “What
are you doing. All Right?” he said. “You are
eating with your fingers instead of with your
fork.”
The American made up a foolish face and be-
came embarrassed, while Egon passed the mattei;
off.
After eating they put on their helmets and went
out. Though All Right now seemed to have be-
come rational again, the doctor cautiously gave
a hint to Korus.
“I do not know what is the matter with him,
but he seems to me to be suffering from a nervous
collapse. If you notice anything, do not pay any
attention to it but just pass it off.”
Of course this conversation had to be written
on the tablet, like any other. Now they exam-
ined the rocket, but it did not appear to have
suffered any injury. Indeed, at the window the
artificial skin was not destroyed but showed
cracks and breaks.
Meanwhile it had become evening. Of course
everything was the same at all times, but they
had retained the earthly habit, after being twelve
hours awake, of calling it evening. When it was
ten in the evening by terrestrial time, they said
“It is night” and went to bed. In reality there
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
39
were stfll fourteen days of the eternal lunar
night.
Of course it was pitch dark in the cabin, after
the three had stretched out as usual on the floor
and put out the electric light. There had been a
large window only on one side, which now was
destroyed. On the other there was nothing but
a round porthole, through which the dull light
of the earth cast only a very feeble glimmer.
The American was as taciturn as usual, but he
seemed perfectly normal.
“How are you, Mr. All Right?”
“Thank you, I am tired and would like to sleep.”
After some hours Egon was wakened by a noise.
He perceived in the faint light that the American
was standing up, with his helmet on, and was now
leaving very softly on his toes. He awakened
Korus.
“What is it?”
“We must watch All Right. He has gone out.”
The young German was still sleepy. “Don’t
let him disturb us,” he said. “We are tired.”
“I am afraid that his reason is affected.”
Korus became wide awake. All had long since
been accustomed to keep on the artificial skin at
all times. Then they needed only to put on their
helmets and their heavy boots, the latter being
worn to protect the artificial skin and to preserve
their balance.
“Quiet.”
“What is it?”
“He is coming back again.”
All Right came in again, carrying a great chunk
of ice in his hand. This he placed on the electric
plate, switched on the current, and was going to
lie down again. The eyes of the two men, now ac-
customed to the darkness, had seen all this.
Now Egon sprang up, switched on the light,
seized the chunk, ran to the door, and threw it
out.
“All Right, what are you doing? That is the
miserable carbon dioxide!”
The American replied with a snarl, “Of course
you had to wake up.”
Korus stepped up to him. “Man, do you want
to murder us?”
“I want to finish matters.”
For a moment the three faced one another
speechless. They did not even think of taking off
their helmets. Two stood in horror at the thought
of having with them a madman or at least a man
desperate to the point of suicide; the American
stood with bowed head, his fingers twitching con-
vulsively. The narrow cabin and the strange
tone of their speech through the diaphragms in-
creased the horror of this moment.
Suddenly All Right made a move and leaped
out the door, which he, strange to say, carefully
closed behind him.
“He has lost his mind.”
“You saw it before when we were eating.”
“He wanted to kill us all.”
“And at the same time he has just this fixed
idea about the carbon dioxide. He made such a
proposition to me earlier.”
“He only needed to open the metal protection
of the window ! Since we did not have our helmets
on then, we would immediately have frozen to
death.”
“We must follow him.”
Korus hesitated. “It is better for him to die
than for us to die with him.”
“He is a human being, and we cannot let him
perish.”
“You are right.”
The two stepped out. Not very far from them
the American was sitting on the ground and star-
ing at the earth. He was dressed only in the arti-
ficial skin, which protected him from the cold, and
the oxygen helmet.
Egon slowly walked up to him. But when All
Right saw him close at hand, he jumped up with
gestures of terror and fled away.
Then he knelt down and they saw him holding
the matchbox in his hand. Apparently he thought
he was in the cabin, for he scratched one match
after another, which of course went out immedi-
ately.
“He wants to blow us up.”
Korus forgot that Egon could not hear him.
Yet they understood each other, separated, and
tried to catch the American from two sides.
The latter jumped up and to their surprise com-
menced a rapid fire with pieces of ice, which he
threw at them with giant strength. Then he
stood up to his full height, raised his arms in the
air, took a couple of mad leaps, and began to run.
He ran straight ahead in great bounds, with the
other two after him.
The chase lasted for hours. Korus and Egon
were bathed in sweat under their artificial skin.
They were exhausted, for they had covered dis-
stances which would have taken days on the
earth. Still it went on just the same, and the
madman seemed tireless.
There was another mountain and another abyss.
All Right vanished from sight.
Egon pointed : “Down there.”
The fact that the two could not even talk to-
gether increased the horror of this fearful night.
Below lay the American, apparently dead. WTien
they painfully managed to climb down to him, he
struck out and struggled, but he could not stand
up.
“We must tie him.”
Egon had the lasso with him. They bound his
arms and slowly carried him back to the top.
Here Egon took the tablet and wrote, “Where
are we?”
Korus shrugged his shoulders, as though to say,
“If you don’t know, I’m sure I don’t.”
In the pursuit they had completely forgotten
to notice where they were going. There was no
trail: how could a human foot make any prints
on the ice of the lunar night? They wandered
about, dragging the now perfectly insensible AW
Right. They laid him down, climbed peaks and
domes, came down again, and wandered further.
Always the scene was the same, monotonously uni-
form.
At last Egon pointed with his hand. He had
recognized a peak. He climbed up it and waved
his arms. His keen eyes had seen the rocket
through the gloom.
40
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
i
CHAPTER VIII.
Days of Gloom
A fter two hours they reached the rocket
again. They carried the American in and took
off his helmet. He lay motionless, and his face
was ashy grey.
“He is dead.”
Egon put his ear to his heart. “He is still alive.”
Korus examined the helmet. “The
exhausted,” he said. “He was at the
focation.”
All Right opened his eyes and began to utter
groans as if in fearful pain. “My foot!” he
moaned.
Now for the first time the two saw that on the
right foot of the American the artificial skin was
torn. A black frostbite was visible through the
rip, which fortunately was narrow. They un-
dressed him and in the process observed that the
entire artificial skin had become rotten and was
{Illustrated by Paid)
High in space a solitary person was
floating— separated from
everything.
tearing under their hands. It certainly could not
used any more.
All Right moaned in pain. Egon got out the
medical chest and gave him an injection of mor-
phine. He went to sleep.
“It would perhaps be better if he were dead.”
“We must do everything to save his life.”
“He is mad and will keep trying to kill us.”
Egon was insistent. “Then we will tie him, but
must save him, if we are able to save our-
selves.”
Korus examined the foot and said, “The whole
foot has already become gangrenous.”
“Then it will have to be removed.”
Before going into journalism Korus had studied
medicine and served as assistant in a hospital.
They did whatever was at all possible. They cut
the destroyed tissue and bandaged the foot. Then
they themselves sank down exhausted and slept
for many hours. When they finally awoke, the
American was lying with his eyes open, softly
moaning to himself.
“How are you. All Right?”
“I have a great pain in my foot. What has hap-
pened to me?”
“You fell and tore the artificial skin.”
“Must I die?”
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
41
"Certainly not; friend Korus is half a doctor,
you know.”
“What about the hydrogen?”
“I know where to find some.” Egon thought it
well to keep him calm.
"And then do we go home?”
"Of course.”
“And I cannot help you! We must start at
once. I should not like to lose my foot. And Dr.
Hastings in Frisco — ”
"Korus and I are going for hydrogen today.”
The American had no fever and spoke perfectly
rationally once more. It seemed as though the
pain of his wound had collected his thoughts
again. He ate and drank with them. Then Egon
arose.
“I must go on the search alone,” he said. "You
must take care of him.”
He put on his helmet and went out the door.
Again there was the same dreadful landscape.
He reflected. Where should he look now? Sure-
ly there was hydrogen on the moon, but where?
He travelled in another direction. He went for
hours, this time all alone. Ice, everywhere ice.
It was such solid ice that even where it seemed to
be frozen snow it was hard enough to chip the
edge of his hatchet when he tried to break off a
piece.
He seated himself and reflected. Yes, that was
natural. Even if the sun had not been completely
able to melt the lunar ice, yet in the incessant
heat of the two-weeks lunar “day” it had become
brittle, while now the cold made it freeze fast
again. He thought matters over. It was useless
to seek further. He had chipped his hatchet in
some places where there certainly was snow. They
would simply have to wait until the lunar night
wds over, twelve days more.
This was a frightful thought. The cabin had
no window now, and they had to be very sparing
of the light. The storage battery would under no
circumstances work for twelve days, and they
needed electric power and warmth for the start.
In the cabin was the invalid with a perhaps fatal
injury to his foot. There was also the possibil-
ity that at any moment madness and suicidal
mania would seize him again.
While Egon sat here all alone and reflected, he
did not break down. On the contrary, a firm de-
termined look came to his face. He ran over it
all again. He had found oxygen and hydrogen,
thongh the latter was in an impure state. But
after he had found it at all, it must surely occur
unmixed.
He arose and walked homeward. It did not
matter. They just had to wait until the sun came
back and made the snow brittle again. They had
food and drink.
He travelled for several hours. According to
his opinion he should long before have seen the
rocket, but however often he crept up on the sum-
mits, he still saw only the uniform craters, big and
little, and no sign of the rocket. Gradually ter-
ror took possession of his body. A cold sweat
broke out all over him.
He jumped along in great bounds. He ascended
a high mountain, hurrying so that his pulse beat
faster in spite of the lessened exertion, and look-
ed about. Craters, mountains, all bathed in the
yellowish light of the earth, but not a sign of the
rocket. Now he fully realized that he had lost
his way. He was wandering alone on the vast
moon, and at the same time complete exhaustion
came over him.
Korus Sees Visions
K orus was sitting in the rocket, while the
American was Ijdng on the floor. A violent
fever had set in and was making the invalid
quiver. Now he moaned in pain, now he trembled
with cold, and then again he imagined all sorts of
nonsense.
Korus was young, only twenty-five, a gay and
joyous fellow who had hardly thought of the ser-
ious side of life. Now he began to get anxious.
He looked at his watch. Egon was to have re-
turned in five hours, and six had passed. It might
take him longer. He might perhaps have found
hydrogen and be coming heavily laden. Korus
forced himself to be calm and tended the invalid.
Eight hours!
The American had fallen into a troubled sleep
under the influence of the strong dose of quinine
which Korus had given him and which had dimin-
ished his fever.
The young German could no longer bear to
stay in the cabin. He took his oxygen helmet and
went out. All was still. Nothing could be seen
but the yellow light of the earth bathing the great
dead field of ruins of the moon. He climbed the
nearest peak, leaping up for a whole hour and
continually looking around. He took the tele-
scope, which had lenses adapted to nocturnal use,
and looked about in the land. Nothing!
Ten hours had passed!
One idea kept making him shudder. The doctor
had had an accident! He was somewhere help-
less! He would not return again ! And here was
he, alone with the invalid, helpless and alone.
Even if he had everything, even if the American
got well, they could not even tell what hydrogen
and oxygen were, they did not know how to fill
the rocket motor or to control it. He felt cold in
spite of the artificial skin, but it was a chill from
within that made him shudder.
Again he looked about. Emptiness !
But yonder, there was a shadow, something was
coming. No, it was nothing!
And now his overtaxed nerves thought they
saw figures everywhere. Men who approached
him and looked like Egon and then suddenly turn-
ed to mist before his eyes. They crept up out of
the depths, monstrous forms, with spongy limbs
and huge heads. They came from all sides. Al-
though he knew he could hear nothing, he heard
voices, the mocking laughter of these ghosts. His
horror increased. In the depths of a crater he
saw a light — a light that had not been there be-
fore. Now it became larger and larger. He stood
up, feeling his knees tremble.
Great pieces of the surface were thrust aside
down below. They must have been metal sliding
doors. He plainly heard the rolling and rattling
of great machines.
Involuntarily he went toward the light. Now
he saw figures down below. Little figures with
42
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
gigantic heads, climbing stairs which led up from
vast subterranean rooms.
Living beings! They came toward him, almost
fungus-like hands touched his, soft squeaky
voices, which he strangely understood, bade him
come along. They led him below and removed
the diving helmet from his shoulders.
He was able to breathe. He walked down the
stairs, following them with a beating heart. He
felt that it was not in his power to refuse obedi-
ence to these things. He went through a mighty
room in which tremendous machines, the gigantic
forms of which he had never seen before, revolved
their wheels and raised their iron arms. Then he
was in a vast hall, brilliant with gold and jewels.
It seemed to be the hall of a subterranean palace.
At table sat a great number of persons, eating.
They were dressed in soft flowing robes of various
colors. All of them had huge heads and snake-
like limbs.
Moon people! His heart beat more anxiously.
Moon people! Frightful monsters. And on a
platform sat an apparently very old man with the
hugest head of all. All this struck him as horri-
ble, yet as not at all unexpected. Now two leaders
came out of the crowd and stepped up to Korus.
The entire hall was lighted by a bluish light,
but the creatures were at the same time veiled
in a grey mist. These creatures had long thin
worm-like arms and legs as well as incredibly
large heads. The man in the lofty throne seat,
however, had still more attenuated limbs but an
actually colossal sphere for a head, out of which
two piercing little eyes looked forth. And these
eyes, which gave the impression of a mighty brain,
looked questioningly at him, while at the same
time strains of supeimaturally beautiful music
came to his ears. The man up there began to
speak in a soft piping voice, and then suddenly
the mist vanished and everything became perfect-
ly clear. With horror Korus saw whole hordes
of such lunar beings come in, carrying the rocket
on their shoulders. Then he felt himself seized
by slimy hands and bound with chains.
Korus gave a loud cry. The American lay
stretched out dead on a bier. Beside him stood
Egon, bound as he himself was. The squeaky
voices were talking louder and louder, and all the
figures in the hall were taking on threatening
looks.
A Terrible Predicament
^ GON started, felt the ground giving way under
J-j him, slid down, and stopped somewhere.
He looked about and could have shouted for
joy. Now he knew where he was. He recognized
the spot, the ledge projecting out in the deep
crater, where he had found the carbon dioxide
snow two days before.
He climbed up the mountain again. From this
point he knew the way to the rocket.
Korus was still in the frightful hall. The
horrible lunar figures were swaying about him
like ghosts. The long arm of a machine was de-
scending upon him. He knew that in the next
instant this machine must crush him. He felt its
iron clutch strike heavily on his shoulder, and he
fell down.
At this one blow everything had vanished, the
whole hall with the moon people had sunk into
nothingness, and about him was the bare yellow-
ish lunar landscape, bathed in the light of the
earth.
Before him stood Egon, with his hand on his
shoulder. He was now pulling him along. An
hour passed, during which Korus staggered along
on Egon’s arm as though stupefied, and then they
stood before the rocket. Before the rocket, which
was floating right over the surface of the moon,
just as he had left it.
They entered the cabin. The American was ly-
ing in a peaceful sleep. They took off their hel-
mets. Egon laughed at observing that Korus still
had an absent look in h:s eyes.
“You are a frivolous fellow, Korus. I found
you fast asleep on the last mountain peak.”
The young man stared at him. “Was I asleep?”
“Fast asleep.”
“And what about the men in the moon in the
underground hall that I saw?”
In a few words Korus related what he had
seen.
“Have you ever read Wells’s book about the men
in the moon?”
“Of course.”
“Then you simply dreamed what the novelist
told you.”
The doctor became very serious. “We have
both of us again had a piece of good fortune. I
lost my way in the night, while you fell asleep
from exhaustion and had a dream. Think what
you may, I believe that fate has good intentions
toward us, else we should never have seen each
other again. And how is the invalid?”
“He seems to be sleeping peacefully. Evidently '
the fever has lessened.”
They sat down and ate. Egon was contented
and at the same time rather ashamed.
“Have you found anything?”
“We must wait until the lunar day returns.
Korus, I have a feeling that we two must also
take care of our nerves.”
They sat there in silence.
The time for sleep arrived. The American still
slept calmly. At any rate, his wound did not
seem to have become worse. The night, that is the
sleeping time of the men, passed undisturbed with-
out having bound All Right again.
fortune would have it,
tee fourth since the sun had disappeared. All
Right was awake.
“Have you some hydrogen?”
“I cannot carry it alone, the load is too heavy.
Korus has to take care of you.”
The American shook his head. “I feel better.
I can perfectly well remain alone for some hours.
I beg of you, if you know where there is hydrogen,
go and get it. We must not lose a moment. We
must do everything possible to leave this fearful
place. I had a horrible dream. I thought I was
insane ; I saw myself get up secretly in the night
and carry the block of frozen carbon dioxide into
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
43
the cabin and destroy us all. Go, get the hydro-
gen, and save us.”
”We will get it.”
Disaster and New Hope
H e beckoned Korus to follow him, took his
helmet, and went out. He had to be alone
and think. The American felt better and had
overcome his fit of nerves. At this moment what
he had actually done seemed to him a dream.
He was calm because he for the moment believed
he would be saved. What was to be done?
Should he actually make an attempt with Korus,
which would surely be just as fruitless as those
before? Should he tell the American the truth
and thereby run the risk of seeing him collapse
again. Even if he risked a new attempt, did he
dare to leave All Right alone? Was it not to
be feared that just the absolute solitude would
again completely upset him? Was there not the
possibility that if new mad ideas came to him,
he might destroy the whole rocket?
He could find no solution. He also felt that
.young Korus could give him no advice and that
the entire responsibility rested on him. He had
jumped along a few strides and was standing on
one of the smallest craters. Meanwhile Korus,
who had bandaged the American’s wound, had
appeared up at the exit of the air-lock.
Egon saw him and beckoned to him. But
then he was seized by a sudden horror. He
thought that he too was being frightened by
ghosts. He saw something that could not be
happening. The rocket was beginning to vibrate,
beginning to oscillate very distinctly, as if moved
by a violent current of air, and here in the moon
there were no currents of air.
Still more, he himself swayed, plunged to the
ground, lay on his knees, and suddenly there
was life about him. On the dead rigid moon
there was motion! The whole region began to
get this uncanny life. The crater walls wavered,
the ground opened up. As though by a magic
hand there was dug a very deep rift, a valley.
Little pieces of ice were whirled up and sank
down again, while with lightning speed a deep
ditch or valley opened and the ground split open
as though cut by a knife.
All this took only a few seconds. It was a
phenomenon which he would have called ah
earthquake, if it had not happened on the moon.
A moonquake! He looked up at Korus and saw
him fall, faster than usual, headfirst into the
depths of the newly formed abyss. At the bot-
tom he lay motionless.
Egon leaped down, forgetting that at any
moment the pit might open up more deeply, that
perhaps — ^for what did he know about the inner
fires of the moon? — a volcano might start an
eruption !
All remained quiet. Korus lay motionless with
his helmet crushed by a great block of ice which
a person could not have moved on the earth.
Egon was seized by the most terrible anxiety.
He rolled off the ice, picked up Korus, whom
he was fearful of losing, and carried him into
the cabin of the rocket. The ship was now per-
fectly motionless.
“Are we starting already?” cried the Ameri-
can.
He did not reply but took off the helmet. Korus
was uninjured, except for a few bruises. But
when he undressed him, he saw that not only the
second helmet but also the artificial skin had suf-
fered. It was not torn but cracked and no longer
suitable for use.
“What happened?”
Egon had understood all this. “Nothing but
the fact that the cold of the lunar night burst the
coating of ice, which had become brittle in the
sun. Another new discovery. This explains the
channels in the moon that suddenly form.”
He could not remain in the cabin. He stood
in the opening of the air-lock, not venturing to
descend, lest he fall victim to a second quake,
especially since no one could now rescue him, be-
cause the other two suits were destroyed.
All remained quiet. The rocket, which- was
moved by the quake only by the pull on the an-
chor rope, was now motionless. Meteors were
flying across the sky as frequently as often hap-
pens on the earth in certain months. A glowing
spark rushed down, and Egon involuntarily
ducked. Very close to him a tiny meteor struck
the moon and burst into glowing sparks. Single
ones flew close by him and fell into the fragments
of frozen oxygen. They burned with a bright
flame.
Then — his breath stopped. A spark had pene-
trated a block of snow which he had also fetched
from yonder, from the other side, and did not
bum but went out.
Egon jumped down. The shock had split the
piece of snow. He took a little bit and ran to the
cabin. Without answering any questions, he got
the spectroscope, switched on all the lights,
looked through it, and shouted : “Hydrogen ! We
have hydrogen!”
They did not understand him. They looked
at him in the belief that his mind was affected,
but the miracle had come to pass. During these
past days he had vainly wandered about the
moon. And the hydrogen was right here! He
had found it the first day. He had not investi-
gated all the chunks. He had assumed that they
all contained oxygen. Probably he would never
have noticed it. Perhaps he would have suf-
focated them all, if he had brought the blocks of
ice into the cabin. Even if only this one block
was hydrogen, it was ample for their needs.
He explained matters in a few words. There
was a celebration in the cabin. Korus fetched
out a bottle of champagne, and the American
looked on with bright eyes.
“We have hydrogen! We have everything!
We must just wait until the lunar night is over.
Then we will repair the rocket, using the rest of
the artificial skin from the useless garments to
strengthen the outside of the rocket. Be patient,
for as soon as day comes, we shall be off.”
The moonquake and the meteor fall had saved
them. Rather, it had not saved them but given
them a possibility of safety. The three men sat
together in the narrow cabin and saw a ray of re-
turning hope in the depths of the fearful lunar
night.
44
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
CHAPTER IX.
The Coming of Day
T he twilight of the new lunar day came slow-
ly. When the first oblique rays of the sun
illuminated the cheerless expanse, it was like a
release from imprisonment to the three men.
The last four days had imposed an incredible
strain on their nerves. The American was suffer-
ing great pain in his foot, and the mobile Korus
could hardly control his impatience at being in
the narrow space of the cabin.
During these days they had not left the rocket
at all. The second of the two storage batteries
was barely half charged, and since two of their
three garments of artificial skin had become use-
less, they had under any circumstances to be
sparing of the electricity and simply use it for
keeping the cabin warm.
Every time the air-lock was opened, part of the
heat was of course lost. The chill of space came
in, if only for a few seconds, forcing them to heat
up again by electricity.
So they completely gave up leaving the rocket,
although freedom of motion would have done
them a world of good. They sat in the dark
cabin, with the batteries of the two flashlights
charged for extreme cases of need, but they did
not dare to burn a light.
From their supplies they had selected food
which could be eaten cold. They opened the tins
in the dark, and they also ate in the dark.
It was not absolutely dark. As in the darkest
night on the earth, there was also here a very
faint half-light which enabled them to find their
way about, once they were used to it.
Nevertheless each day and each night was be-
coming a torture. If the thought of the hydrogen
they had found had not repeatedly supported
them, they would have broken down.
They spent almost all day telling one another
of the sufferings of north polar explorers in ear-
lier decades, who had had to spend a whole half
of the year in the darkness of winter.
But at any rate those men had air to breathe,
and they were able to go about. They had the
possibility of going hunting and shooting polar
bears and walrusses. They could busy them-
selves and seek some diversion to kill time.
But these three men were sitting idle in a very
narrow room with nothing to do but wait. They
did not even have a feeble candle-light.
There were times when they silently brooded.
When they lay down to sleep, they were wakeful,
for they were not tired.
Egon kept saying, “Three days more. Then
the sun will return, then we shall fill the tanks
and start.”
“Of course we shall start.”
The other two agreed more loudly than was
necessary, yet neither of them actually believed
it, nor did Egon himself.
The sun was there. It did not help them. It
merely brought the decisive moment nearer, yet
the imprisoned men breathed more easily.
Egon dressed himself in the last suit they had
of artificial skin. He examined it very carefully
and utilized the first light which came to them to
glue on great patches made of the other two,
wherever the skin of this garment seemed to have
become thin. Only one of the helmets was ser-
viceable now.
“Now I will go out and examine the exhausts.”
It was not easy. To be able to stand up in the
cabin, they had so anchored the rocket that it
floated horizontally above the moon.
Egon had to climb out, struggle along to the
stern, and try to get into the machinery. Of
course this rear room had to be shut off heat-tight
from the rest of the rocket, because otherwise the
open exhausts would have let the chill of space
come in.
Egon cautiously slid along the polished hull of
the rocket and arrived at the exhausts. The
frightful shock of the premature start had done
a great deal of damage. The soldered places be-
tween the pumps and the exhausts were broken
badly. For hours Egon sat bent over in the tiny
space and reflected. Then he unscrewed the
broken exhausts and brought them into the cabin.
Anxious eyes awaited him.
“Will it go?”
“It must go.”
They thought matters over.
“Soldering is entirely out of the question.”
How could they have heated a soldering iron
here, since they had no blast-lamp?
Again a little of the precious electric power
had to be sacrificed. While the other two were
hammering away in the cabin, to repair the pis-
ton-rods and exhausts, Egon ran an electric wire
around the rocket, pressed ordinary snow around
the broken places, warmed it electrically, and let
it freeze again. It was a desperate thing to caulk
the connections with ice. If it would only hold
at the start!
The Last Toast!
T hree more days had passed — ^three terres-
trial days — and still the brilliant sunlight
still lay over the moon, unbroken by any night.
The work was done and the rocket again in-
tact, even if the repairing was only very primi-
tive. The great containers were filled with hy-
drogen and oxygen gas. For this they had had
to sacrifice some of their heat, because it was on-
ly in a gaseous form that it was possible for them
to flow from the exhausts and mix to form deton-
ating gas.
Egon had also stowed great amounts of hydro-
gen and oxygen snow in solid form in the rear
of the rocket. There was certainly^ the danger
that they would warm up, combine, arid explode.
It did not matter, they had to take a supply along
with them.
They sat together in the cabin. Lately they
had become accustomed to speak little. Now
Egon took one of the champagne bottles and
opened it.
“If it is all right in your estimation, we shall
start after dinner.”
He purposely spoke in as indifferent a tone as
though it were a matter of a simple journey.
The American nodded and said, “All right.”
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
45
“Do you think it will be successful?” asked
Korus.
“I do not know myself,” replied Egon serious-
ly. “We must settle whether we want to risk it.
I have got the apparatus into as good order as I
possibly could. It is to be hoped that it will again
work properly, but it is equally possible-that at
the first electric spark the ignition will blow up
the whole rocket into a thousand atoms. I can-
not judge whether my repairs will hold. I have
no possibility of determining to what extent the
apparently undamaged pipes have been made
brittle by the cold of space. It is therefore easily
possible that the pressure of the lever, with which
I commence the ignition, will mark the moment of
our death.”
“Can we remain here?” the American asked
with a set face.
“Certainly not.”
Korus, who had long since given up his eternal
merriment, said in a determined voice: “Here
we are dying slowly. It is impossible to find food
on the moon, besides which our life would be use-
less here. Doctor, if you have merely a ray of
hope of saving us by making the start, I am
ready.”
Egon nodded. “If I were alone, I should risk
it. There are three of us, and so I must have your
agreement.”
The other two held out their right hands to
him.
“Now we will be men. We will no longer
speak of the danger but we will cling to hope.
Gentlemen, let us unite in one the three beautiful
toasts which the Englishman in a foreign land is
accustomed to drink: Our home!”
“Our distant friends!”
“The women we love!”
They raised their glasses, einptied them, and
sat a while in deep thought.
Korus arose. “Now let us not be sentimental,”
said he. “Now we will eat well, the best that
we have left, and drink another bottle. It may
be the last meal of the condemned, but I believe
we shall succeed. I will believe in that.”
“Bravo, Korus !”
How different things had become! Formerly
the two had been intruders, and now they felt
that all were united in close friendship.
They ate and drank. Korus made jokes, and
they even laughed! Then the two reporters
cleared the table and packed everything away so
carefully that it could not be all mixed up on
starting. Egon put his helmet on once more.
“Look out now, while I point the rocket up-
ward again.”
He stood outside, viewed his work for the last
time, and took his final look at the fearfully im-
pressive desolation of the frozen moon. He took
one more look at the heap of ice where they had
buried the cylinders containing their notes. Out
of it projected the alpenstock to which he had
fastened the German and American flags.
Stirred by no breath of air, they hung limp-
ly. How long would it with^and destruction?
He still hesitated. Even this departure was be-
coming hard for him ! Then he pulled at the rope
and pointed the rocket toward the earth — ^the
earth, whose brilliant disk was right above him.
At this moment his soul was filled with home-
sickness as well as with hope. For a moment he
collected his thoughts for a short prayer to the
Almighty. Then there remained only one last
thing to do. With a sharp blow of the ax he cut
the frozen anchor-rope. On the earth it would
certainly have made a report like a rifle-shot,
when the rope which was frozen taut sprang
asunder. Here everything was still. The de-
parture was to be as noiseless as the arrival.
The rocket moved slightly; not because of a
breeze but because of the displacement of its
centre of gravity. Egon held the rest of the rope
in his hand, while his feet still remained on the
moon. He was the only connection between it
and the rocket.
He climbed up the rope and stood in the en-
trance to the air-lock, taking one more glance
around. Then he resolutely entered, closed the
air-lock, carefully secured it, and went into the
cabin, fastening the door of that, also.
“We have got so far, anyway.”
There was still a little to be done, lowering the
window protections, stowing away the diving
helmet, and regulating the warmth of the cabin
once more. They sat together on the floor; in
this case, because, when the point was upward,
on the back of the padded bench.
“Now in God’s name!”
Egon pressed the ignition lever, and all three
clasped hands. The clockwork, which would
cause the ignition after a few minutes, began to
hum. It was the same humming that had so
startled the three in New Atlantis, that day that
seemed ages past.
Fearful minutes passed in which no one said a
word, while each stared ahead with teeth
clenched. Then came a jerk, a violent oscillation
of the rocket, a frightful swinging back and
forth which tossed the three up into the air.
In the next moment they lost their senses, ex-
actly as they had formerly at the start from New
Atlantis.
They had thought of everything but one : the
fact that the attraction of the moon was only an
eighth as much as that of the earth. They had
therefore not considered that it would have
needed only an eighth as much energy to hurl
them upward and that now, if the apparatus did
chance to be working properly, they were travel-
ling eight times as fast as they had before.
Streams of fire rushed out of the rocket. One
explosion followed another. Bits of metal flew
about, falling on the oxygen snow and burning
with a bright flame, while a tiny glowing dot dis-
appeared faster than the speed of thought into
everlasting space.
CHAPTER 3C.
The World Forgefs
W INTER snow lay over the wild mountains of
Yellowstone Park. On Atkinson Peak, al-
most buried in snow and cut off from the outer
world, stood the observatory and the great work-
shop, forty meters high and put together with
iron ribs, where Waldemar Apel lived.
,46
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
The buildings were warm in spite of the win-
ter, for the clever engineer had made use of one
of the hot springs, which cast up their hot spray
all around, even in the winter, and had converted
it into a natural central heating plant.
There were only a few persons who lived up
here. Waldemar Apel, two well-tried mechan-
ics, an old married couple as servants, and Irene
Allister.
Four weeks had passed since the catastrophe
in New Atlantis had occurred and the rocket had
vanished in the ether. The first few days were
devoted to constant work. Joe Allister had come
after them, to fetch back his only child, but his
words were in vain. He had shrugged his shoul-
ders and returned to Frisco.
Waldemar Apel had given his word not to ven-
ture a journey with the second rocket during the
winter under any circumstances, unless the first
rocket itself sent a call for help. This last was
impossible. Days had passed, and no observa-
tory in the world had announced anything news
at all of the three space voyagers.
The greatest refractor on earth, in the observ-
atory at Chicago, had watched the moon night
and day for an entire week. But it had not ob-
served the least thing, and the fact that once a
meteor plunged upon the moon from distant
space could not have anything to do with the
rocket. Yet this was the meteor that showed
Egon the oxygen. It was only natural that the
tiny rocket, which was not white hot like the
meteor, remained unnoticed.
Joe Allister was again in Frisco. It suited him
perfectly that his daughter should spend the win-
ter months at Atkinson Peak. He could rely on
Apel, and the agreement had been made. Now
everybody claimed to have suspected beforehand
that the rocket was a piece of folly. Now every-
body laughed at old Allister for having thrown
a million or more into the moon.
Now they were mocking at the love of the mil-
lionaire’s daughter for the crazy doctor. It was
well that she did not hear it. As for her sacrific-
ing her small property, what difference did that
make? She was after all Allister’s only heir.
Great lorries had gone to the observatory,
shortly before the winter snow covered the roads.
A whole army of mechanics had been at work.
In the great workshop the second rocket stood
ready for departure, resting just like the first on
spring supports. Above it the dome of the work-
shop could at any moment be so moved by press-
ing on a machine that the rocket could ascend.
It completely resembled its twin-sister, only that
it was perhaps still more carefully built.
Irene had been a clever and practical assist-
ant. She had soon comprehended the entire
mechanism. She understood every lever and
every wheel. Here too a large supply of food
and drink was loaded in, likewise garments of the
artifical skin and oxygen helmets, but more of
everything than in the first rocket.
Irene was always liberal. “We must have so
much of everything,” said she, “that we can give
some of them away. We must have the possibil-
ity of being en route a long time, seeking them.”
At the same time the little padded cabin pre-
sented an almost homelike look, for feminine
taste had understood how to beautify many
things.
From the very first they had worked day and
night, with one man always at the radio receiver
and another at the telescope, making observa-
tions. A week passed. No word came from
space. The newspapers were silent, and the
earth in the press of the daily happenings was
forgetting the rash attempt of the three men.
Three fools, or one fool and two frivolous ones
who spoiled his work.
There were only a few scientists who lamented
the attempt which had failed. The masses
shrugged their shoulders, and the world which
was living altogether too fast to heed such things
forgot them.
A whole week had passed without any happen-
ings.
Apel said to Irene, “Don’t you want to return
to Frisco?”
She looked at him in terror. “Then do you also
believe that all hope is lost?”
“You have a brave heart. What does ‘all hope’
mean? The rocket did not return to the earth.
It would have had to reach the moon, according
to my velocity calculations, in five days. Let us
assume that the impossible happened, that the
pilots were even able to land and to set out again :
then another week could go by.”
Irene remained the second week and also the
third. Then the winter was so far advanced that
she had to remain. Even an airplane could not
have fetched her away, because up here there
was no place to land.
Apel smiled. “Now you will have to stay here
all winter with me,” he said.
“Now all is lost, is it not?”
“Yes, according to human understanding. We
must mourn Egon Helmstatter as a gallant man
who sacrificed his life for his work. It would
have better if the yacht had reached New At-
lantis an hour later. Then none but those at
fault would have suffered.”
“And what do you intend to do?”
“To wait until spring and risk a new attempt
with the second rocket.”
“With me?”
“Not without your father’s consent.”
Irene did not answer but went to her room. In
the evening she seemed perfectly calm. From
now on, without ever saying anything about the
rocket, she was constantly in the observatory as
Waldemar Apel’s assistant.
An S-O-S!
T he fourth week was over, and a winter storm
was blowing about the peaks of Yellowstone
Park. There had been a frightful storm, and it
howled about Atkinson Peak and shook the
buildings. Snow and sleet had poured down,
while the whole force of winter beat against the
building in which the people lived.
Irene Allister had chosen for her room a tower-
chamber right under the dtfme of the observa-
tory. While Apel sat below at his desk, she stood
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
47
at the window and looked out. She saw the
clouds sweep by and the lightning flash, and she
heard the thunder roll through the mountains
with a thousandfold echo.
Gradually the storm passed, but in the east was
a vast dark-grey bank of clouds, announcing the
coming of more snow. Irene was sunk in thought.
She liked to stand at the window and gaze out
into the storm. What was this little violence of
the terrestrial atmosphere compared with what
the travellers to the moon had had to endure in
space ! She became lost in fantastic and mourn-
ful reflections.
Then she looked out again, and her eyes took
on an amazed and staring look. The great bank
of clouds had vanished. It was a clear sky now,
but up in this sky was something written. It was
in great black letters: S-O-S! It was as though
written by a ghostly hand in the heavens.
Irene thought she was dreaming. She pressed
her hands to her head and closed her eyes. When
she opened them again, she saw S-O-S once more.
Irene raced down the stairs and burst into
Apel’s room. “For Heaven’s sake, come quick-
ly!” she cried.
“What has happened?”
“Either I have become crazy, or else a frightful
catastrophe — ”
Apel jumped up. She seized his hand and
drew him along up the stairs to her room. She
pushed him to the window.
“Don’t you see something?”
Both stood a moment as though turned to stone.
Cold sweat ran over them. Apel started back
and cried, “There are letters up in the sky.”
“S-O-S.”
“Human beings in trouble.”
Irene seized him by the shoulders. “Signals
from the rocket!” she cried.
“Let me think a moment.”
She cried out almost exultantly, “Signals from
the rocket!”
The telephone rang loudly. Apel seized the
receiver. This was the message he received:
“This is Allister. Something incredible is being
seen here. Gigantic signals in the sky, the let-
ters S-O-S. Can it be the rocket?”
“Perhaps,” replied Apel.
The conversation broke off. Apel sat at the
desk. Because Irene lived here and because this
room was close to the observatory, they had the
telephone here.
“I must think a minute !”
Irene was still at the window. The signal re-
mained the same, always the same letters : S-O-S.
Again the telephone rang. “This is the Chi-
cago Observatory. Reports are coming in from
all over the world, from Berlin, Paris, Moscow,
and Yokohama. In the last hour a strange phe-
nomenon has been seen everywhere. There are
great letters in the sky: S-O-S. Can it be the
rocket?”
Irene stood in the middle of the room, with her
hands pressed to her heart. She listened to Apel
repeating what he heard and listened to his re-
plies.
“Can’t you see anything in the sky?”
“It is still too dark.”
“For Heaven’s sake, get an exact observation
and report to me.”
Now he ran back and forth in the room. “It
is the rocket! There is no doubt it is the rocket.
Who else could give such signals?”
Irene sobbed, “It is in danger!”
“But where is it? How is it possible that it
can give the signals to all parts of the earth at
the same time?”
Irene rushed to the telescope. “I cannot see
anything,” she said. “My eyes are blinded with
tears.”
“The sky is all full “of clouds now. We must
wait.”
She wrung her hands. “Meanwhile they are
going to destruction.”
The bell rang out loudly through the house.
The two mechanics rushed'into the room.
“Get all ready for the start ojf the rocket!”
The men stood still, not understanding the en-
gineer.
Irene pointed out the window. “Don’t you see :
S-O-S?”
He r knees trembled. “That is the rocket.”
CHAPTER XI.
A New Predicament
F or a moment the rocket was apparently mo-
tionless. In the tiny cabin the three men
were crowded together, trying to rid themselves
slowly of the frightful attack of nausea, dizzi-
ness, and depression. Of course they were no
longer on the floor or the bench but floating in
the air.
Now the velocity meter began to register again.
At first it did so slowly, then faster and faster,
then much faster than it ever had before. After
only a few minutes there was a jerk in the little
casing — ^the instrument was broken.
The new and very extraordinary velocity and
the renewed acceleration had not been so un-
pleasant in their effect on the travellers as the
start from the moon, because the velocity had
been expressed not jerkily but by a constant even
increase.
After the velocity meter was broken and the
ship had assumed a definite even motion, nothing
of this motion was any longer felt by the occu-
pants.
All Right, the ever contented one, held on to
the metal rail, so that his feet touched the floor
and he seemed to be standing in normal fashion.
He tried to smile.
“What is happening now?” he asked.
Egon, pale and still struggling against a severe
attack of nausea, nooded and said, “Yes, yes.”
Korus, who had seated himself on the bench,
looked anxiously at him. “What do you mean
by ‘Yes, yes’?”
“Let me rest a moment. The matter is quite
clear to me. Let us first have a drink of cognac.”
They drank right out of the bottle, and very
soon they began to feel better. First they
straightened up the little cabin a bit, and the
American pressed the button which sent back the
beryllium plates from before the pane of ^e little
round windo w.
48
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
He looked out and gave a loud cry. “I think
the whole universe has gone crazy.”
It was a fantastic sight. The pitchblack sky
was strewn with thousands of stars, but these
stars seemed to be racing around the rocket like
an orrery gone mad.
With a quick pressure Egon closed the window,
while the other two looked at him in horror. All
Right said, with a rather shy and hesitant glance
at Helmstatter, “Are we really standing still?”
Egon had collected his thoughts. “The whole
thing is actually very simple,” said he. “We left
the moon in exactly the same way we left the
earth previously. There is this difference, that
we did not succeed in replacing the exhausts and
the hidden parts of the rocket as they were at
first, and there is the second difference, that we
this time had no auxiliary rocket to cast off.
Things have gone with us just as with Fritz Opel
in his second trial trip at Berlin with the rocket
automobile. The exhausts did not kindle one af-
ter another in the proper succession but in wild
confusion, almost all of them at once. Therefore
the concus?sion was extraordinarily stronger and
more fearful than in our start from the earth. It
is actually a wonder and a proof of the excellent
construction of our rocket and of the strength of
the metal, that they withstood the shock. Of
course the Lord deserves most of the credit. The
machine we call ‘man’ is indeed incredibly re-
markable, as shown by the fact that we have the
satisfaction of being alive.”
The American interrupted him. “But — ”
Egon paid no attention. “Let me finish speak-
ing. The matter is not so simple, and I must
think it out. By a look into the rear room
through this pane of glass I have convinced my-
self that there actually remains of our whole
rocket not much more than our especially solidly
built cabin. See for yourselves!”
He pressed the button, making the plate slip
away from the rear pane of glass, as he had done
before, when his two friends were still almost
stunned. He turned on the little searchlight be-
fore the window.
The greatest portion of the rear part of the
rocket had disappeared. Wildly distorted and
jagged bits of metal stuck out. All the rods and
tubes that had been fitted in the complicated
mechanism in this rear room were now stretched
out at great length, as though pulled straight out
by machinery. It hung behind the ship, slightly
bent downward, looking somewhat like the tail
of an airplane.
Korus cried out, “Why, we are a wreck!”
Egon nodded. “That is what we are.”
Likewise the American had lost his humor.
“Then have we no more possibility of independ-
ent motion or control?”
Egon shook his head. “No, we have lost all
our independent motion.”
“Then are we standing still?”
“Not just yet. We are mo\ung with such vel-
ocity that our measuring apparatus went on a
strike and preferred to break.”
“I do not understand.”
“It is simply an example in mathematics. By
the almost simultaneous but irregular ignition
of the exhausts and by the explosions of our total
supplies of hydrogen and oxygen, converted in-
to detonating gas and exploding in a few rapid-
ly successive shocks we got two results : we were
not only hurled ahead at an almost incredible
speed, but we were also diverged from our
course, so that we did not approach the earth
vertically but instead encountered its force of
gravitation tangentially, at something like a right
angle. We had better fortune than Fritz Opel,
whose auto could not help being smashed, when it
diverged from its course, for in space we had
sufficient room to let ourselves be propelled for-
ward even in zigzag lines. Accordingly when
our fuel and therewith our independent motion
came to an end, we met the orbit of the earth in
such a way that we necessarily, at the speed we
had, were obliged to commence rotating about
the earth. We now became a second moon,
though a very little one, and that is what we are
at present.”
“Then we are lost!”
“Quite the contrary. If our own impulse had
perchance sent us beyond the orbit of the earth,
then perhaps we should have become a new
planet with an orbit around the sun.”
“Thank you very much !”
“How long our wild course lasted, I do not
know, since we lost our senses. Still it must have
been a considerable time, for I had wound my
watch just before we left the ihoon, and now it
is almost run down. Therefore almost twenty-
eight hours must have passed. Our departed
measuring apparatus also indicates that in this
time we have traversed the almost incredible
distance of one hundred and eighty thousand
kilometers.”
Egon Explains
HE American still shook his head. “But then
-I- I do not understand why our excellent velocity
meter has given out at our present speed, which
is surely less.”
In the scientific explanations the two had com-
pletely forgotten their desperate situation.
“Our velocity is aft^r all not so very slight. If
we just figure things out, the moon encircles the
earth in thirty days. Otherwise expressed, it
does so in two and a half million seconds. Now
let us reckon further, taking into account the fact
that we are not, as I first assumed, about half-
way between the earth and the moon but that we
have traversed in our mad course almost three
quarters of the distance back. The radius of the
circle which we have to describe is therefore a
much smaller one, and besides that, we struck
the orbit of the earth tangentially at great speed.
I cannot determine with exactness the velocity
with which we are encircling our dear Mother
Earth, but it must be enormous.”
The American gave a loud cry, and Korus
stared in horror at Egon. “Then we are hope-
lessly lost!”
All Right tried to summon up a bit of reck-
less humor and to make a jest : “I must certainly
notify my employer to send me my salary by the
next mail.”
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOO_N
49
Korus gave him an angry look, but Egon said
calmly: “What does ‘lost’ mean? At present we
are still alive. It has been a miracle that our
rocket was not smashed. We still have on board
food for about three weeks. Kind fortune has
granted that our air machine was not broken.
Since we are in empty space, in spite of our great
velocity there is no heating and consequent melt-
ing of the apparatus to be feared. Thus we have
at least two weeks before us.”
“And then we are sure to die.”
“Dear Mr. Korus, what is to happen in two
weeks need not frighten us to-day.”
Korus looked at him. “I am not cowardly,”
said he, “if I look the facts in the face. We are
lost, for you yourself have said that we possess
no means of getting ourselves out of this orbit.
Before us lies exactly the same fate as has often
befallen the crew of a submarine. We still have
food and air, but we know exactly when these
will come to an end. The only difference is that
in the case of a submarine there is the slight pos-
sibility of help coming from outside, while in our
case this is impossible.”
“Why?”
“First, because there is no second rocket avail-
able.”
The American contradicted: “If I am right,
Waldemar Apel built two rockets.”
Korus went on, “Do you consider it possible
for anyone to see us from the earth?”
Egon shook his head. “With our small size
and our immense distance from the earth we are
so tiny a grain of dust that even the best tele-
scope would not see us. At most it might happen
that a very keenly observant astronomer — and I
admit that this is a very improbable chance —
would see from time to time a very faint shadow
whisk across the lens of his telescope.”
Korus shrugged his shoulders in vexation.
“But then — ”
“Then you are quite right in saying that we
shall not be seen from the earth, if we do not
make ourselves noticeable to the earth.”
“How can that be done?”
“By our making signals to the earth. That
could be done in two ways. Professor Oberth
had advanced the theory that it is possible, by
means of a number of metallic mirrors of sodium
which are fastened on a wire net, to produce re-
flections which are not only visible on the earth
but which also, according to Oberth’s assump-
tion, even possess such radiation power that one
can warm with them entire parts of the earth
which are otherwise frozen. I have thought that
with such a mirror, which I have on board, one
might be able to send a Morse signal to the earth.
But I do not know myself how practicable this
is. I have a second idea on the subject. You all
know the ‘sky writing’ done for advertising pur-
poses by aviators.
“According to my own ideas I have already
built an apparatus of which even Apel knew
nothing. It must be considered that the arrange-
ment used on the earth would not work here.
First, we are moving with such velocity that the
writing would be distorted, and second, in the
airless space we could not simply use vapors.
and last of all, the letters would have to be mons-
trous, to be seen by chance by astronomers or
maybe even by the naked eye. My apparatus is
so arranged that very fine metal dust, placed in
exhausts set obliquely, would be driven very rap-
idly out into space by a miniature rocket, using
hydrogen and oxygen. This dust would go
through a stencillike device having the form of
the letters S-O-S. Through the placing of the
exhausts this writing is spread out very exten-
sively. The metal dust makes it legible. Thus
perhaps one could write gigantic letters which
could be seen from all parts of the earth. The
mirror signals, even if they would not be noticed
from the earth, would be in reserve to point out
the way, in the higher strata, to a rocket ship
that might be seeking us.”
A New Hope
^‘■DUT how will you do this?”
JO “There is no difficulty at all in leaving the
rocket through the air-lock, in a diving suit, as we
did on the moon. Standing outside one could
then give the signals with my writing machine
and at the same time spread out the net and
fasten it to the rocket. Then those remaining
behind would have to pull back into the rocket
the one outside, in case he could not get himself
back.”
“Do you believe that a human body can stand
the velocity out there?”
“That does not come into question for us, since
there is no resistance or friction to be con-
sidered.”
Korus was still doubtful. “Which way are you
going to send the signals?”
“That does not matter. Since we are moving
around the earth very fast, the signal, which we
can repeat several times, will surely be seen
somewhere in inhabited regions.”
While Korus sat there thoughtfully, reflecting
about what Egon had said, the American nodded
his head vigorously.
“Fine. In this way we could imitate the signs
of the Morse alphabet and send the New York
Evening Ledger a whole account of what has hap-
pened.”
“Of course we could,” agreed Egon, “but at
present I think we shall limit ourselves to one
signal.”
The two looked at him.
“S-O-S,” he said.
There was a moment of absolute silence.
Very slowly this tiny gleam of hope began to
take root in their hearts. If it did not prove to
be their salvation, still it was an idea, an activity,
an attempt.
All Right threw back his head suddenly. “May
I venture a remark?”
Egon gladly received this attempt at a care-
^^^^Mr.^^Ail Right has the floor.”
“I am frightfully hungry.”
The electric heating plate was brought out of
the cupboard. Egon satisfied himself that one
battery was still fairly well charged. Some cans
were opened and the contents prepared. The
fourth of the ten champagne bottles was un-
50
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
corked, and they ate with the healthy appetite
of men who indeed knew the seriousness of
their position but likewise knew themselves for
the moment out of danger.
Egon had examined the diving suits.
“One suit and one helmet are uninjured, but
there is only one oxygen cylinder left which can
be used.”
“Then we have only one chance to give the
signals.”
“I hope that it will be sufficient.”
Egon took one of the smallest sodium mirrors,
opened the little medicine chest, and got out a
roll of black plaster. He pressed this all over
the mirror that nothing was left of the brilliant
surface but the letters S-O-S, very plainly shaped.
Then he took from a cabinet an apparatus not
unlike an ordinary fire extinguisher.
“See, this is my machine. Up here is the
screen with the letters S-O-S punched in it. In-
side the case is very fine black metal dust, and
here is a very long hose. We fasten the little
rocket to this hose. As soon as I am outside, you,
Korus, will set the mechanism in motion, thus,
so that the exhausts will commence to operate
about five minutes after I have left the rocket.
Then the metal dust will be projected into space
with great force, exactly in the form of the
S-O-S.”
Thoughtfully the two regarded the apparatus.
“Now give me the diving suit.”
“No, me!” said Korus.
“You must give it over to me. I was the one
who made the mirror and the writing apparatus.”
Helmstatter dressed himself in the suit. He
took the wire net with the mirrors over his arm,
the writing apparatus in his hand, and was ready.
All this was a mighty load which he would
not have carried on the earth, but here he hardly
felt it. About his body he had buckled a belt,
and to it he had fastened the thin rope. Natur-
ally his hands as well as his whole body were
covered with the artificial skin, which prevented
any loss of warmth.
“Now I shall enter the air-lock, and you will
close it airtight behind me. If I want anything
of you, I have the bellbutton out in the air-lock,
and we can communicate by means of Morse
signals.”
A New Disaster!
H e entered the air-lock, after switching on the
oxygen cylinder in his helmet, and the other
two carefully closed the airtight door behind
him. All this was done as though it were some-
thing perfectly natural and self-evident. Egon
did not even press their hands in parting. They
all knew very well that what was now to be
done would be the most frightful of all their ex-
periences. They knew that in the next second
Egon might perhaps be rent to atoms. They
knew that the attempt he was now risking was
their only chance for rescue, tiny and improbable
as it was.
Egon stood for a moment in the air-lock,
obliged to pause for a time, until his heartbeats
became calmer. He could not prevent his whole
life suddenly passing before him like a flash of
lightning in this instant. He thought that he
saw two dark eyes gazing at him from some dis-
tant world: Irene Ailister!
Quickly he opened the outer door of the air-
lock. Now he felt just as he had once before,
as a student aviator, when he had jumped out of
his burning plane at a dizzy height, not knowing
whether his parachute would open or not.
Nothing happened. Hesitantly he stepped
outside. He had to push himself away from
the rocket with his hand he remained floating
motionlessly outside.
He hung the iron hook at the end of the rope
on a ring on the outside of the rocket and looked
about him.
He was unwilling to think; he forced his mind
not to take in where he was. He would not re-
member that the earth lay one hundred and
eighty thousand kilometers down below him. No,
not below him but apparently off at the right.
It formed a huge disk, on which his eye, aided
by the keen lenses of the helmet, could make out
as though on a terrestrial globe the continents and
countries.
It was morning. On wide stretches of the
earth there still lay deep shadows.
Egon took from his pocket a small bottle. He
had thought of this in the l«..t moment. It con-
tained, though only in a very small amount,
the same mixture of hydrogen and oxygen as
was used for propelling the rocket. This con-
tainer was also closed with a tube which could
be worked by a lever.
He opened the tube and a little of the gas es-
caped from the container. Since he held this
behind him, he was slowly propelled forward un-
til the rope was taut. He had a standing posi-
tion. He was able to preserve his balance by
moving the bottle about and letting it flow out
in various directions.
In his right hand he lifted the little mirror.
Now the intense rays of the sun struck it.
It flashed like a bruning-glass and cast the rays
toward the earth, on those great still shaded
regions.
Egon could not follow the course of the light
rays by eye very far. He could not tell whether
they reached the earth or whether they made the
S-O-S visible to human eyes.
For a moment Egon floated motionless before
the rocket. Then he felt a violent jerk which
pulled on the little rope. Korus, inside the ship,
had started the mechanism of the little container.
Egon grasped the writing apparatus firmly, so
that it should not escape from his hand, and saw
how the metal dust was blown out of the ex-
hausts, flying with great speed out into space,
but then remaining motionless, when the force
of propulsion was past.
The form taken by the writing was so exten-
sive that he could not take it all in. He guessed,
however, that now a gigantic S-O-S in black par-
ticles of metal must be floating in space.
He looked about, and at this moment his vision
dimmed and his heart nearly stopped beating.
In the last quarter of an hour he had paid atten-
tion only to the mirror and the written signal.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
61
Now the most frightful thing possible had hap-
pened.
Egon was perfectly motionless. The gas con-
tainer was empty. But the rope which connected
him with the rocket was no longer fastened to
the latter. Probably the impulse of the writing
machine had sufficed to free the hook from the
ring. The rope was floating freely in the air, and
the rocket was at least twenty meters from the
end of it.
He tried to make swimming motions. Of
course it was in vain. He encountered no resist-
ance. He simply lost his equilibrium and had
trouble in floating back into it.
The rocket was apparently standing still, but
he was moving, to a degree hardly perceptible,
more and more away from it. He could not un-
derstand how in this moment of the most fearful
certainty of death he could think so calmly.
It was quite clear to him what had happened.
He, the only person in a diving suit, a hundred
and eighty thousand kilometers above the earth,
had become a third satellite. A new satellite,
although he did not yet know whether he was
destined to rotate about the rocket as its moon or
whether he was to fly about the earth, a tiny par-
ticle, more rapidly than the rocket.
The wire netting with the mirrors had escaped
from his arms. It had unfolded and was now
floating in space, between him and the rocket,
about halfway.
He was seized by a paralyzing terror. His
thoughts worked feverishly. He was lost unless
he succeeded in reaching the rocket again.
A sudden thought flashed through his mind.
Why, he had the oxygen cylinder in his helmet.
If he should loosen the screw which closed the
helmet at the back of his head, then the oxygen,
which was compressed in the cylinder, would
flow out, of course with some pressure. Then
the oxygen would propel him ahead, and if he
had good luck, he would reach the rocket.
But with every atom of oxygen which flowed
out of the helmet there would also escape the
possibility of his living and breathing. When the
supply was exhausted, when the out-flowing gas
no longer closed the opening by its pressure, then
through this opening the chill of space would en-
ter and freeze him to death in an instant.
He looked over at the rocket. Why didn’t
they steer? Why didn’t the two men help him?
Inside sat the two, with their anxious deathly
white faces pressed to the window pane, seeing
him slowly move further and further away from
the rocket. To be sure, the levers of the steering
apparatus and the controls of the gyroscope were
still there, but the steering apparatus and the
gyroscope were themselves gone. Only some
levers and rods projected out of the shattered
stern of the rocket into space.
The sun had risen. Brilliant and dazzling, its
full force struck the rocket, unprotected by any
atmosphere. Far below it lit up the great disk of
the earth, making a glittering light flash from
the polar ice-caps.
Out of the black eternal mantle of space the
constellations shone, harsh, cold, and sharply de-
fined.
Close beside them there flashed brilliant
sparks from the mirror-facets of the net which
was floating freely. Silently the rocket, the new
satellite of the earth, sped on its newly formed
orbit. Before it went the tiniest of all bodies in
the universe, the grain of dust in space — ^the
living being, still protected from the cold of space
by his diving suit, with his lungs still breathing
the remnants of the oxygen in the cylinder, his
senses still alert, going to meet death with open
eyes.
CHAPTER XII.
A Last Letter
S INCE the remarkable writing in the sky had
appeared, the rocket had again become the
topic of conversation of all the world. Almost at
exactly the same time the gigantic S-O-S had been
seen all around the earth.
The astronomers racked their brains and found
no explanation. To be sure, reports which could
not be checked came from all directions. The ob-
servers at the huge telescope maintained that at
definite intervals a shadow was passing over their
lenses. Others thought this an optical illusion,
and probably they were right.
Unduly imaginative persons jumped out of bed
at night, if any airship passed, believing that they
saw the rocket.
Harmless meteors were thought by over-zealous
newspapermen to be the remains of the falling
rocket.
All mankind was divided into firm believers and
mocking scoffers.
“If the signals come from the rocket,” asked
the latter, “where has it been these four weeks?”
Yellow journals went in for depictions of in-
credible journeys through space, seeing the rocket
already returning with treasures and strange
forms of life on board.
“Where has the rocket been?”
“Where is it now?”
The calls for help had come to an end. Again
day and night the most delicate radio receiving
sets had listened to space. Again all telescopes,
all ships, and whole armies of airplanes had ob-
served the earth and searched the sea. The call
for help had come to an end, but the rocket had
not plunged down anywhere. Thus there was only
one thing which was incontrovertible: for ten
hours, visible all around the earth, there had stood
in the sky the huge uncanny S-O-S.
Mr. Joe Allister in Frisco was greatly excited.
Joy and anxiety were struggling within him. Joy
at the possibility of the return of the rocket, and
mortal anxiety for his child. Immediately after
he got the first report by telephone, he ordered a
pFane.
The pilot smiled.
“I must get to Atkinson Peak immediately.”
“We can fly there, but it is imposible to make a
landing at present in the icy mountains.”
“Then let me descend by parachute. Even if
the airplane is wrecked, I must at once reach my
daughter.”
62
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
Two hours later the monoplane in which Joe
Allister sat was mounting up into the heavens.
On Atkinson Peak they had been working fever-
ishly. It was indeed night, but the sky was per-
fectly clear. Of course the comparatively small
telescope showed nothing. With the coming of
darkness and night the signals from space had
vanished.
Waldemar Apel was firmly resolved on start-
ing. The second rocket was ready, richly provided
with food and drink, and having great quantities
of fuel on board. While Apel, already dressed
under his suit in the artificial sldii, in case of any
contingency, was giving the last directions below
by the rocket, the domed roof was opening up and
the night sky was looking down into the great
hall.
Irene had hurried to her room, saying nothing
to Apel. In feverish haste she changed her
clothes, putting on an artificial skin and over it
a leather sport suit. She had disconnected the
telephone. Even more, she had broken the con-
nection by cutting the wires. She knew that her
father would prevent her, and she was firmly de-
termined to accompany Apel.
Irene took from her desk a letter. She had
written it long before, right on the very first day.
There it had lain, and she had not thought that
she would be able to use it. She read it once
more:
“Dear Father; Man must act as fate requires
of him. I promised myself to make the ascent
with Apel, if the rocket needs help, I must do it,
or I shall never forgive myself all my life.
“If Egon Helmstatter dies, we are to blame.
Both of us. He wooed me, and I demanded of him,
to be sure half in jest, an extraordinary deed. You
have had the rocket built and have given him the
possibility of the journey in space. We are to
blame.
“I love you, my dear Father, but I also love
Egon. We played together as children, and I
saw him again as a mature man. That I love
him, that I have always loved him, I only knew
after the rocket ascended before our eyes. He
needs help. If anyone can bring it to him, I want
it to be myself. Understand me and forgive me,
my dear Father. Irene.'*
Alone In Space
T 3E rocket was ready to start, and Waldemar
Apel was just about to close the door, hoping
that Irene had changed her decision. Yet he was
sorry if he had to do without her cleverness and
her young strength, after all. But just then she
sprang lightly into the cabin.
“You really intend to go?”
She wore a look of determination. “I would kill
myself before your eyes, if you refused to let me
accompany you.”
“Get in.”
Apel had not broken his word of honor. He
had only promised not to ascend if no call for
help came from the rocket, and the ^0-S had
come.
At high speed the airplane was rushing through
the night. In mortal an^ish Joe Allister stood
at the window of the little cabin, staring out,
counting the seconds. He saw the mountains rise
up, he saw before him in the moonlight the peaks
of Yellowstone Park. He drew a breath of re-
lief. In a few minutes he would be there. The
pilot had promised to land, explaining that he
could do so by wrecking the plane.
Already they had come down low. Already
Joe Allister saw through his binoculars the ob-
servatory. Then it became light, there was a
flare of fire, the mountain seemed to become a vol-
cano, and then something shot high up into the
air. A frightful gust struck the plane and whirled
it about, but the pilot kept control of it. High
in the sky a new heavenly body vanished, draw-
ing after it a long fiery tail like a comet. Joe
Allister lay on the cabin floor, wringing his hands
and thinking only one thing: “Too late! Too late!”
The plane landed close by the observatory,
breaking its wings in landing, but Joe Allister and
the pilot were unhurt.
The millionaire leaped out, ran over the snow-
covered clearing, and reached the house. He saw
that the air pressure of the ascent had shattered
asked, “Where is the rocket?”
The man’s eyes were shining. “Ascended safe-
ly and without accident.”
“Where is my daughter?”
“Gone into space with Mr. Apel.”
Allister had enough strength not to collapse.
He showed no weakness. He had them point out
her room, where he locked himself in and read
Irene’s letter.
He remained alone all night in the locked room,
giving no answer, even when they knocked on the
door. Nobody was to see that Joe Allister was
weeping for his last child.
High in space a solitary person was floating,
separated from everything, separated even from
the rocket. His hand still convulsively clutched
the writing machine. The mirror-net had slipped
from his hands and was floating somewhere in
space, far below the rocket. His thoughts worked
feverishly. As long as he had still been able to
give signals with the mirrors, he had at least had
something on which he could concentrate his
mind. Now even the written signals in the sky
were beginning to fade, and he felt that it was all
over with him.
His breathing was getting difficult. The oxy-
gen cylinder must be nearly empty. It would not
have sufficed to propel him to the rocket, even if
he had exposed himself to the deadly chill of
space. If he had still been able to reflect clearly,
he would have been surprised that he suffered so
little and that the twilight was coming for him
so painlessly.
In the cabin of the rocket were Korus and Mr.
All Right. The American, whose wound no longer
pained him, lay on the floor, while Korus stood at
the little window (the only one remaining) and
looked out.
“Isn’t the doctor coming back yet?” asked All
Right.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
53
“No^ he still seems to be making signals with
the mirror. The giant writing, which I certainly
cannot see the full extent of, stands in the sky,”
It was only after some hours that Korus under-
stood what had happened outside. When he saw
the rope to which Egon had tied himself floating
freely in space, a fearful terror paralyzed his
limbs. He turned to the American and said, “All;
Right, now be a man.”
“What is it?”
“Now pull yourself together.”
“Do not keep me in suspense.”
“We have lost the doctor.”
All Right stood up. 'What Korus feared did not
happen. He did not collapse.
“Tell me quickly what has happened, or I can-
not stand it.”
Korus related what had occurred. “All Right,”
said he, “we must save him.”
“We cannot ; he is surely dead already.”
“He is not necessarily dead. He has the oxy-
gen. He is floating a few meters away from us.
The gravitational force of the rocket is holding
him near us. We must save him.”
A Second Attempt
T he American nodded. “Still,” he said, “even
if it is only a single meter, we cannot go out
into space.”
“I must.”
“It is your certain death.”
“That does not matter. We are lost this way,
too. He is our only salvation, and he is our com-
rade.”
The opposite to what Korus had feared had
happened. All Right had a determined face.
“Where is the other artiflclal skin?”
Korus nodded. “I shall put on the torn skin.
You know we have glue. You will glue the rags
of the third skin over the tears. For the few min-
utes I need it may hold out and protect me from
the cold.”
“Give me the two helmets. While you are dress-
ing, I will And out whether one of them can be
made to do.”
One helmet, which Korus had worn, had been
crushed by the block of ice. The other helmet was
indeed still undamaged, except that the inner
pipe system was entirely bent out of shape.
There was feverish activity in the cabin. The
American forgot his illness and hammered at the
pipes. It was a painful task. Egon, the techni-
cian, would have done it more easily. It took hours
and hours before they had patched up the ap-
paratus somehow.
“Too much oxygen will flow out.”
“I shall take only a little in the cylinder.”
It then appeared that the work had been in
vain. The entire pipe system was leaky.
Korus nodded his head energetically. “Then it
must be done •without oxygen, if only the helmet
is cold-proof. I shall take one more breath of
oxygen here. I am a good swimmer, and pearl
divers can remain under water flve minutes and
longer without breathing. I myself have like-
•wise remained under for a long time. Either I
shall succeed in a few minutes, or else I shall not
succeed at all.”
Meanwhile Korus had put on the artificial skin.
It was torn in many places, and the American
glued great patches over them. “Of course we
cannot be sure whether this glue will stand the
chill of space.”
Korus stood all ready, his helmet on his head,
but with the valve still open, so that he could
breathe. He now took the long leather lasso and
also a small cylinder of oxygen. He had seen how
Egon had propelled himself with such a thing.
“Then in God’s name. Blow a bit more oxygen
into the helmet and close the tube.
Korus did not answer. Silently he brought in
all the cylinders. Then he bent down, while All
Right made some more oxygen flow into the helmet
and closed it.
They shook hands. Korus stepped into the air-
lock, closed the ^nner door, and went to the exit.
For a moment he had to collect all his courage
when he looked out into space, with the thought
of leaving the rocket. He did not know the laws
of nature, as Egon did. He did not understand
what he saw. He was seized with horror.
Egon was floating perhaps four meters away.
Korus had an idea. The lasso was eight meters
long. What if he simply remained at the exit
and threw out the lasso, catching Egon with it?
He tried to do so. With all his might he threw
the slender leather rope, but it did not fly out.
It had no reason for flying ahead in airless space.
Then the end floated freely in the open.
Korus clenched his teeth. He tied one end of
the lasso tightly to the rocket, fastening the other
equally tightly to his belt. Then he opened the
oxygen container, held it behind him, raised his
feet from the rocket, and with beating heart let
himself be propelled out into space.
The start of the second rocket had of course
caused a tremendous stir, though it was only a
few observatories that could see it. In all the
newspapers there were articles several columns
in length. Great praise was given to the deed of
Waldemar Apel and Irene Allister, who had
simply started out •without any advertisement,
•without an artificial island, and without any cere-
monial speeches.
To be sure, it was generally felt that this new
hazard of human lives was useless.
What madness! A rocket is launched into
space, vanishes for four weeks, and then sudden-
ly incomprehensible signals appear.
These are signals in which hardly anyone actu-
ally puts any credence, and a second rocket travels
off into space, to look for the first one.
It would be laughable, if it were not so sad and
if it did not again cost human life.
Still, they gave praise to Apel, for the second
rocket had made a perfect ascent and had been
watched for hours by the observatories, in its
slender beauty. Then it had become smaller and
smaller. Finally it had vanished into space, a
tiny dot.
They spoke respectfully of Joe Allister, who
had now lost his last child. But nobody, aside
from a few whom the public described as “hope-
lessly incurable”, believed that ansrthing would
ever be seen of the two rockets, though this time.
64
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
also, the empty auxiliary rocket was found float-
ing in the ocean, a few days later.
Waldemar Apel’s rocket had made its ascent
exactly as its designer had anticipated. By the
explosions of the auxiliary rocket it had been
propelled straight up and fast as lightning. The
pressure on the two persons had not been any
worse than Apel had calculated befoi'ehand. Like-
wise they had not become insensible, having mere-
ly become violently seasick for a few minutes,
after which they had quickly recovered.
High up, almost at the limit of the terrestrial
atmosphere, Apel cast off the auxiliary rocket.
Then he went, as he expressed it, with full steam
into space.
All that had taken place simultaneously and
violently in the precipitate ascent of the first
rocket occurred here slowly and intentionally.
Wonderfully smoothly the ship sped on its course,
while Apel and Irene scanned the sky with their
telescopes.
Kurt Korus had left the rocket. At first his
heart threatened to stop beating. But then he
saw that he was gliding forward very gently, and
soon he reached the body of Egon.
He made an effort to grasp Egon, held on to
him, and put his arms about him. Just the same,
some minutes had passed. Egon had slipped
away from him several times. Now, when he had
his arms about him, he felt his senses leaving
him. Only too quickly had the air in the helmet
ben exhausted. Suffocation was beginning to
render him insensible.
All Right had not been able to remain on his
couch. He had slowly crept to the round window.
He had watched Korus, seeing how he had reached
Egon and how they then remained there motion-
less. He considered matters in a flash. Desper-
ation gave him strength. He stood up on his sound
foot. He still had gloves of artificial skin. He
ulled them on and put on his head the crushed
elmet. Then he wrapped about himself all that
there was in the way of coverings and bits of
clothing and drank a great quantity of rum, to
warm himself internally.
He had no artificial skin, but the thick cover-
ings and the increased internal warmth might
let him defy the chill of space for a few instants.
He crept into the air-lock, shut the inner door,
forgot his pain, and pulled at the lasso.
There was no weight to overcome. The two
bodies, locked in close embrace, floated closer.
Summoning up all his power he pulled them into
the air-lock, pushed them into the cabin, got in
himself, and hopped about on his sound leg to
switch on the heat and release oxygen, to replace
the lost air. He felt himself collapsing. He had
a terrible pain in his wound, but his energy was
keyed up. He opened the two men’s helmets,
made oxygen flow into their mouths, poured some
rum between their lips, and saw first Korus and
then Egon begin to breathe. Their eyes opened,
and then he himself fell unconscious from pain.
CHAPTER XIII.
A Clue Found!
A t the same velocity at which the first rocket
had travelled through space, the second one
was now following it. A day and a night had
passed, and it was about to become the second
morning. Waldemar Apel had forgotten that
Irene Allister was a girl. In her leather sport
suit she looked like a boy, and in her calm assur-
ance of every movement, as she read the instru'-
ments, as she indicated that she understood every
technical feature, she was a splendid assistant.
Moreover, the energy and self-control which she
had inherited from her father had kept her from
hesitating a second at the moment of ascent.
The cabin was exactly like the one in the first
rocket, except that Irene had quietly put up a cur-
tain to divide the room at night.
During the whole first day, as well as during
the two nights, neither of them had perceived
anything that could serve them as a goal.
“To-day I shall go out of the rocket and look
about in the open. By now we must be about far
enough for us to be able to determine whether
Egon’s rocket is within our path.”
Irene replied perfectly calmly, “Naturally I
am coming, too.”
They were speaking as though it were simply a
question of ascending the upper deck of a ship,
yet it was neither more nor less than venturing a
step into infinite space.
During the night Apel had let down the metal
shields before the windows. They had to sleep,
after all.
Now he pressed a button, and the metal shield
moved away. In the same instant there poured
in such dazzling sunlight that they were nearly
blinded and had to darken the window again at
once.
“Let us try the other side.”
Irene worked the lever, the metal shield moved
back, and their eyes were dazzled by an almost
stronger sunbeam, which most remarkably did
not seem to come from above but from right close
at hand. They had to darken this window, also.
“It is incredible.”
“We seem to be between two suns.”
“Could it be a meteor?”
Apel had brought out two pairs of sun-glasses.
They protected their eyes with these and tried
once more.
The position of the rocket had meanwhile
changed a little. The oblique rays no longer
struck the window exactly. For a moment Apel
looked, and then he became evidently excited.
“Come here and look for yourself. Do you know
what that is?”
“It is a single glowing point.”
“Look closely.”
“It is a single glowing point.”
His face had a triumphant look. “Don’t you
really guess? I am convinced that Egon's rocket
is very nearby.”
“Mr. Apel?”
The engineer had not taken his telescope from
his eye.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
55
“That is no star, that is no meteor, that is not
even a comet.”
He laughed contentedly. “Those are mirrors.
That is the large net with the mirror-facets, which
Egon had with him.”
“You really believe so?”
“He spread it out and made signals with it.”
“Then you believe that the other rocket — ”
The old man nodded. “Very probably. Now
I am going out.”
“And I too.”
“Not yet. I am just going out into the air-lock.
Now we must see which way we have to steer.”
With youthful speed Apel, who was already
dressed in the artificial skin, slipped on his oxygen
helmet. Skillfully Irene made the fastenings and
closed the tube and fastened the thin leather rope
to Apel’s belt.
“You take your helmet also, enter the opening
of the air-lock, and hold the rope. If I raise my
right hand, pull me back.”
In spite of her steady nerves, Irene had a mo-
ment of fearful dismay when she stood in the
projecting air-lock, swaying in its light spring-
framework, while right at her feet she could look
down into the infinite abyss of space.
Apel, too, stood for a moment in hesitation. He
also was to make the first conversion of theory
to practice. He did not know that Egon had al-
ready done this. At this moment he trembled, not
with fear for himself but at the thought of what
would happen to Irene, if he did not find his way
back.
Meanwhile he had given an imperceptible pres-
sure to a lever. He had already thought out an
improvement. A little oxygen cylinder was fas-
tened to his belt, pointing backward, and the pres-
sure of a lever opened the valve. While his will
still hesitated, he felt that his feet had already
left the rocket. As he now, without feeling heat
or cold, floated freely in space, it seemed to him as
though a truly divine sensation were pervading
his body and as though he had found the highest
fulfillment of his dreams.
He looked about. Now he was fairly close to
the net. It was floating in space, fully outspread,
but there was nothing to be seen of the rocket.
His telescope scanned the heavens. Suddenly some-
thing w’hisked by overhead at a tremendous speed.
It passed like a flash of lightning, many thou-
sand meters above him.
Apel raised his right arm and had Irene draw
him back. Already the mirror-net lay far below
them.
An Explanation
T hey were again in the cabin. Before a word
was spoken, Apel worked the levers.
“What is it?”
Irene saw how he was turning the gyroscopic
controls.
“We must go back a little way. First we must
fold up the net and get it into the rocket. We
must not make willful oversights, and we do not
know whether the mirrors indicate good fortune
or bad.”
“Have you seen the rocket?’*-
“At least I know where it is.”
“You know?”
“One thing at a time. First we must stow away
the mirrors.”
It was astonishing how readily the rocket obey-
ed the controls, how excellently the exhausts
worked, which were alternately shut off and again
started. In a short time they were close by the
net. Apel, who now moved about outside with
perfect confidence, got the net alongside, where
they folded it up and pulled it into the rocket.
Then Apel closed the air-lock again from the in-
side and rubbed his hands contentedly, while he
again worked the controls and at the same time
switched on the exhausts.
“Why do you torment m^.this way?”
“There is still time for explanation. Look out
of the window.”
Irene looked out and gazed at the disk of the
earth.
“You have turned. We are no longer ascend-
ing.”
“No.”
“The earth is no longer behind us but below us.”
“Of course.”
“Are you going to return?”
There was anxiety in her eyes, and she was
vexed by the smile on Apel’s face.
“In that case I would turn the bow of the rocket
toward the earth.”
“But what are you doing?”
“As you correctly guess, we are encircling the
earth.”
“Do you think you will find the rocket here?”
“Just sit down calmly and I will tell you: I
have seen the rocket, probably sixty thousand
meters, or a couple more or less, above us.”
“And then aren’t we to ascend any more?”
“I will explain to you. Egon’s rocket has ap-
parently lost the power of independent motion.
Probably the fuel is exhausted. For some reason,
which I naturally do not know, Egon’s rocket has
tangentially converged on the orbit of the earth
at a very high speed, becoming as it were a new
though tiny moon, and now it is encircling the
earth at an extraordinary velocity.”
“But then — ” began Irene, with an expression
of horror.
“Then nothing is lost. We must just manage
to secure for ourselves, by using our rocket motor
and the abundant fuel we still have, as nearly as
possible the same velocity and at the same time
slowly rise upward. Of course we must cautious
ly avoid having our orbits meet prematurely.”
Now Irene began to understand. She saw how
the velocity meter rose from minute to minute,
as they encircled the earth faster and faster.
Egon and Korus were again awake in the cabin,
Egon very much exhausted and dull, while Korus
had a splitting headache.
The American lay unconscious on the floor.
The cabin was again warmed, but therewith the
last battery had been exhausted. They un-
wrapped from All Right the covers and protec-
tions and put him to bed. On investigating his
wound, they found it broken out and very bad
56
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
indeed, to judge from appearances. He recovered
consciousness and groaned in pain.
Egon and Korus pressed his hand. “Now you
have saved both of us.”
While his pains slowly lessened with the appli-
cation of healing substances, the American
smiled.
“We have no reproaches or thanks to give one
another. We have all done the same thing. First
the doctor, then Korus, and lastly I.”
“And now?”
They sat together in silence. Korus had opened
the last champagne bottle.
“We must refresh ourselves.”
They all three felt that they had reached the
end of their strength. Korus repeated, “What
now?”
Egon replied almost angrily, “Wait, of course,
to see whether the signals were seen.”
“And if they were seen?”
“Wait to see whether Apel sends up the second
rocket.”
Pitilessly the American continued asking. “And
if he does?”
“Wait to see whether they find us.”
“That is, wait and wait, while we slowly lose
our reason.”
Again there began to be a flash in his eyes.
Korus, too, was evidently excited. As for Egon,
he felt most inclined to scream loudly.
“We will drink wine and go to sleep.”
They emptied the last bottles, and alcohol as
well as exhaustion put them to sleep.
The Signs of Rescue
A PEL’S rocket sped ever faster about the
earth, making ever wider circles. Now Irene
stood at the window. Twelve more hours had
passed, but neither of them had been able to close
their eyes.
“Mr. Apel, look up there?”
Not at all far above them, though still of course
more than a thousand meters, the other rocket
was just speeding past. Even now it was going
much faster than they, but one could very plainly
make out the form of the rocket.
Irene wept loudly. Apel opened the exhausts
still more widely. The velocity meter trembled
and shook and could hardly keep on registering.
Egon was the first to awake. He rose, stepped
to the little round window, and gazed out.
He reflected. The oxygen which they had was
again almost exhausted. The edible provisions
were practically at an end, for much was spoiled.
They could cook no longer. The electric current
was used up.
If help did not come in a few hours, all was
lost.
His face had a set expression. Whence should
help come? Now Korus stood beside him, while
the American still slept.
“Korus, you are a man.”
“I know what you are going to say to me. It
is all over.”
“Very probably. Pull yourself together.”
“I am composed, that was just a momentary
feeling.”
“We will not say anything to the American. 1
should not care to have an ugly scene in the last
moment. Give him some morphine, so that he will
remain asleep. We will finish our notes, in case
the remains of our rocket should some time come
to earth again. Then — ^then we will simply open
the windows — ^removing the metal shield from the
broken one and breaking the other. The chill of
space will quickly and painlessly release us from
our sufferings.”
Korus made no reply, but neither did he show
any outbreak of unmanly weakness.
He stepped to the window and looked out. What
Egon just now said was no surprise to him, yet —
He was young!
There was perfect stillness in the cabin. Egon
was carefully arranging the writing material for
putting down the last notes.
Suddenly Korus gave a loud cry. It was so
loud that the American started up from his mor-
phine sleep. Egon could not help thinking that
it was a case of the insanity of the two young
journalists.
“Doctor, doctor, come here, look!”
He shrieked and at the same time sobbed
aloud. Egon jumped to the window, looked out,
and cried just as loudly, “The rocket! Great God
in Heaven, the second rocket!”
All Right straightened up. “What rocket?”
“The rocket bringing aid, do you hear !”
“Is that true?”
The tears ran down Korus’s cheeks. “Can’t
you see by looking at us that it is true?”
The two stood at the window and looked out,
as the second rocket slowly neared them.
They in no wise felt that in reality the two
rockets were speeding along at an incredible vel-
ocity.
The Meeting
F our more days had passed on the earth, with-
out anything being learned about the rockets.
Then happened a sensational thing which ex-
cited the entire world again. An article by the
director of the Chicago Observatory was sent to
the newspapers:
The solution of the rocket mystery! It can
no longer be denied that very small bodies are
encircling the earth in a very rapid motion. It
has not been possible as yet to make an exact cal-
culation of their distance from our planet, but
they cannot be very far beyond the limit of the
atmosphere. I think it extremely probable that
these are the two space rockets.
By some as yet insufficiently explained natural
law or by some fault in their construction both
of them, the first and afterward the second, have
been forced to encircle the earth.
Thereby it is certainly proved that it is possible
to fly with rockets into space but that it is not
possible to return again to the earth. Unfortun-
ately this seals the fate of the five bold persons
who have undertaken the hazardous flight.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
67
There was no one who would have dared to
contradict these calm and concrete words. Yet
after a few days came a new message of sadness.
A Japanese steamer, en route to Frisco, saw on
the high seas a strange object floating along.
They lowered a boat and got on board half of a
rocket ship with the cabin still entirely intact.
A few hours later the steamer was in Frisco.
Again there was a violent conflict of opinions.
Joe Allister was close to madness! It was
one of the two rockets, but which one?
There was nobody in it. Where were the pas-
sengers?
The following evening a reporter, who was
again carefully searching the entire wreck, found
in a corner a note which was entirely soaked
through. The writing had become illegible, and
nothing could be made out but the signature:
“Irene”.
This same evening it was necessary to take Joe
Allister to a sanitarium. He had completely
broken down.
It was the first rocket, the remains of which
had been fished out of the sea.
Side By Side
T he second rocket had attained the velocity
of the first. Separated by about fifty meters,
they were now rushing side by side around the
earth. Apel could not leave the controls for an
instant. Even a single millimeter of wrong dev-
iation in course at such ^velocity would have in-
evitably caused in the next second a collision or
a parting of their paths.
Irene, in her diving suit, stood in the outer door
of the air-lock.
Yonder, in the same fashion, stood Egon. To
be sure, in their equipment neither could recog-
nize the other. They only knew that over there
stood a person desiring help and over here a per-
son who w’anted to bring help, with fifty meters
of infinite abyss lying between them.
Irene had wanted to make the attempt of fly-
ing across by means of the little oxygen cylinder.
Apel had forbidden her. It was uncertain what
currents might be caused by the two rockets trav-
elling close together.
In the last few hours, as long as the distance
was still greater and Apel was still able to en-
trust the steering to Irene, he had been working
in the cabin. Now both his helmet and hers were
provided with little telephones, and there was a
wire between the two.
They wore their diving suits, and since they
had sufficient electric power to warm the cabin
again later, the doors stood open. Irene was serv
ing, as it were, as the captain and Apel as the
navigation officer at the controls.
“Still fifty meters.”
There was a slight pressure below.
“Still twenty-five.”
Their hearts beat. The two faces at the win-
dow of Egon’s cabin were distorted with anxiety.
“Ten meters!”
A last imperceptible impulse.
Apel had steered in masterly fashion. The
two rockets were close together. Egon took the
leather rope from Irene’s hand. Apel had shut
off all the power. Perfectly evenly, as demanded
by the laws of nature, the two rockets shot
through space, now fastened together fore and
aft, as a single body.
At this moment Irene Allister’s strength gave
out and she collapsed.
Waldemar Apel had achieved the most brill-
iant success. His controls had worked like in-
struments of precision, and the rocket motor had
outdone itself.
He himself felt as fresh as a boy. Egon and
Korus had forgotten all their troubles. The
American had been wrapped in a great piece of
the artificial skin, which Apel had on board fof
making replacement clothing in case of need, and
brought into the second cabin.
Apel examined Egon’s rocket.
“It is a miracle that it was not completely de-
stroyed, a miracle that it brought you thus far.”
Everything was put into the second rocket.
Since all were again supplied by Apel with oxy-
gen helmets and the American was covered by the
artificial skin, they had drawn the two rockets
close together and opened the windows, to be
able to pass everything across.
Then the second rocket was closed up again,
the electric heat turned on, and oxygen admitted.
Now at length the diving helmets could be re-
moved again. Thus far Egon had hardly noticed
Apel’s young assistant, but now he thought he
was seeing a ghost.
“Irene Allister?”
With a smile she held out both her hands to
him. “I had to fetch you down again, doctor. My
father and I were to blame for your flight.”
She attempted to smile, but she did not succeed
well. He sought the strength to hide his feelings
at this moment. Apel gave him a bit of help in
this.
The old man embraced Egon with both arms.
“My boy, my dear boy.”
Korus lay on his knees beside the American.
The two men embraced each other, and then they
kissed Egon and Apel. At length they all em-
braced one another, weeping and laughing, and
in the narrow cabin five hearts that had been
despairing, waiting, and hoping, gave vent to
great joy.
They grew calmer only slowly. Irene Allister
stood at one side rather embarrassed. All had
embraced her, too, but she only knew that she had
kissed Egon.
Waldemar Apel sought to turn their thoughts
into other channels. He said with a smile, “I
do not know whether you are insistent on en-
circling the earth any longer as a satellite.”
A bit of terror disturbed the general joy.
“How can we prevent it?”
Apel laughed. “I think it will not be hard.
You were unable, because you had no more power
of your own. We will combine the two leather
ropes which we have into one, to take in tow the
wreck of the first rocket, which we do not want
58
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
to abandon up here. Then we will start the rock-
et motor again and return to the earth.”
Hitherto Egon had been the one whom the
others trusted unreservedly. But now this old
man, with the strength and eyes of a young man,
spoke so naturally of quite incredible things that
even Egon yielded to him and forgot all doubts.
“All right then.”
“Not yet, if you please, gentlemen. I and my
assistant have not left our posts for twenty-four
hours. First we will eat and rest. Let the earth
have its second moon for eight hours more.”
They ate and drank what Irene prepared on
the electric plate. It was a joyous meal. Then
they all went fast asleep.
Toward morning Waldemar Apel awoke, while
the rest still slept. Very silently he worked on
the leather ropes. Then he opened the exhaust-
levers and started the ignition. The sleepers
started up. A shock had awakened them.
“What is it?”
“Look out into the open.”
Close before them lay the yellow gleaming
disk of the earth. The bow of the rocket was
directed straight toward it. Far behind them,
on the long leather rope, the wreck of the first
rocket was following the second.
Apel laughed. “We have left the orbital path.”
Egon said in a solemn tone, “We are returning
to the earth.”
CHAPTER XIV.
Coming Closer.
T his time it was the Lick Observatory that
first gave the alarming news : “The orbit is
becoming narrower and narrower. It seems to
be the space rocket which is approaching the
earth.”
All the observatories were working feverishly,
all the newspapers were in readiness, all the
radio stations were on duty night and day.
Almost every hour there came a new report
which was as startling as the explosion of a
bomb.
“The space rocket”
“It is coming closer!”
“But it is not sinking straight down. It is still
encircling the earth at high speed, only the circles
become narrower each time.”
There were conflicting views, hostile and
friendly.
‘Tt is making a flight to get publicity.”
“It is going to profit by its success."
“On the contrary, its pilot is clever. The rocket
has no wings, and only the energy of the swift
flight can soften the shock on landing.”
“Where will it land?”
“When will it finally reach the earth?”
By now it could already be plainly recognized
through a telescope. It was still travelling at a
terrific speed. It was making the circuit of the
earth in two hours, still at a greater height
than had ever been attained by an airship.
“Probably it will land in San Francisco Bay.”
"Quite right, the rocket belongs to Joe Allis-
ter.”
A day earlier nobody had believed in the re-
turn of the rocket. Now there was hardly any-
one who doubted that the rocket jcould land ex-
actly where its pilot desired.
There was only one single person who did not
show the least interest: Joe Allister.
Since he was convinced of the death of his
daughter, he took no more interest in the rocket.
Quite the contrary. He had returned to his
home, but he had shut himself in. He did not
want to see or hear anything.
Waldemar Apel and Egon stood together at
the window. Slowly the rocket was nearing the
earth. It was going its way with mathematical
exactness.
A day passed. The velocity meter mounted.
“W’e must be careful. We are already at the
complete mercy of the earth’s gravity. We must
not fall.”
“The second rocket in tow is making the con-
trol hard for us.”
Apel reflected. “We will wait until we are
near the ocean between San Francisco and the
Hawaiian Islands. Then we will cut the cable.
The other rocket, following the force of gravity,
will go down. The ocean is very deep there. It
will come up again, I think, and remain floating.
Thus we shall send the earth our first greeting,
while we ourselves descend in very slow circles.
Egon, you guided the ascent to the moon. You
may now take the controls again. I hope that we
shall land in the harbor of Frisco.”
He said this with a contented smile, and no
one now doubted their success.
Irene wrote a few lines quickly :
“My dear Father! We are coming! We are
all together, Apel, the doctor, the two reporters,
and I. We shall land, according to Apel, in three
days, that is Sunday forenoon, in the harbor of
Frisco. Your Irene.”
Egon once more put on the oxygen helmet, en-
tered the other rocket, and laid the note on the
floor. He carefully closed all the containers, se-
cured the air-lock from the outside, and regained
the second rocket by means of the rope.
He had a sorrowful feeling. Not only he but
the three men felt sad, when the wreck now
changed its course, descending faster and faster,
while they themselves went on in their circles.
This faithful wreck, to which they owed their
lives, which had held out so wonderfully, they
were now probably giving over to destruction.
Apel laughed. “Egon, I think you are getting
sentimental again!”
But the wreck was not destroyed. It was
fished out of the water, only the waves that had
got in had effaced the writing of Irene’s note all
except the signature.
“They Are Coming!”
S UNDAY morning in San Francisco. The
rocket had been encircling the earth in ever
narrower course. This morning it was changing
its path, no longer going about the earth but
making lightning-like ever smaller circuits over
America and the Pacific, ever smaller and
smaller.
BETWEEN EARTH AND MOON
59
“There is no doubt, they will land in the har-
bor of Frisco.”
“They will land in a few hours.”
There were thousands of airplanes and dirig-
ibles over the land. Extra trains were bringing
hundreds of thousands by railway across the
country. Autos and motorcycles were speeding
along all the highways. Over night San Fran-
cisco had suddenly become the most populous city
on earth.
The American navy was keeping the harbor
barred. Hundreds of ships, decked with flags,
lay at the shores with steam up, ready to start.
The harbor, the whole city — ^no, all America
and the entire world were decorated with Ameri-
can and German flags. The American flags were
for Joe Allister, the German for Egon.
No radio station broadcast anything but the
news of the space rocket.
Orders were given: “No airship may ascend
or remain up.”
Everyone understood. Expectancy became
great.
The airships might no longer ascend, Test they
get in the current of air of the rocket.
There was a cry, a cry from millions of throats !
For the first time they saw the rocket with the
naked eye, as it swept through its wide circles at
lightning speed.
People shouted and screamed. They threw
their arms about one another. Women became
hysterical. The whistles of the ships sounded.
Joe Allister stood in his room. He wanted to
see nothing and hear nothing. Intentionally he
was dressed in his bathrobe. The loudspeaker
of the radio kept screaming him news, in spite
of him.
“They are coming — ”
The Lick Observatory had plainly made out
the American and German flags on board. They
were not at half mast. Apparently everything
was all right.
Now the rocket was floating fairly low, still at
a high speed.
The noise, the frenzy of enthusiasm, all in-
creased from second to second. The door of the
Allister house was pulled open. Out rushed Joe
Allister in dressing gown and slippers, without a
hat. He leaped into a passing auto and panted,
“To the harbor.”
Somebody stood by the chauffeur and shouted
to the crowd, “Make room for Joe Allister!”
“Hurrah for Joe Allister!”
“Three cheers for Joe Allister!”
The street opened, the crowd made way for
him. They ran along after him shouting. There
was a triumphal procession down to the harborJ
He was showered with bouquets.
All San Francisco cried his name, but he heardi
nothing. Reaching the shore, he jumped into the
white yacht.
“Full steam ahead!”
Nobody prevented him. He alone was allowed
to go. At this moment, when the white yacht
><•
left the shore, while the old man clung to the rail
on the bridge, it happened :
There was a roar and whistle over the heads
of the millions on the shore.
Then the metal bird went over the houses, very
low.
It was in the harbor, and then —
Millions held their breath. The space rocket
suddenly stopped right over the middle of the
harbor. It went down, vertically, fell into the
water, went under, rose again, and floated.
At the same instant the entire sky was black
with airplanes and airships of all kinds.
Hundreds of ships whistled their jubilation.
Cannons were fired. Fireworks were sent up,
right in broad day. The warships, all gaily
decked with flags, formed a circle about the
rocket.
Flattering Offers
A BOAT left the white yacht. In it was Joe
Allister, as pale as death. He reached the
rocket. There a door opene^ and there was a
cheer from the thousands wh/ were on the war-
ships.
“Hurrah for Irene Allister!”
The head of a girl, with black hair and shining
eyes, had appeared in the opening. A slim young
figure was gracefully climbing on to the roof of
the floating rocket —
At this moment Joe Allister wept aloud.
“Hurrah for Egon Helmstatter!”
“Hurrah for All Right!”
“Hurrah for Kurt Korus!”
Last of all, as though he wished to give the
glory to the others, an old man came out of the
rocket.
“Hurrah for Waldemar Apel!”
The five travellers of space were on board the
white yacht, while the warships carefully raised
the rocket out of the water and took it in safe
keeping on board the admiral’s ship.
A single cry went over the entire earth. It
was conveyed on invisible waves by radio.
“The space rocket is here !”
“One rocket brought help to the other in
space.”
“The first people are back from the moon!”
The white yacht reached the shore. Soldiers
had to shut off the streets. Six persons, who had
as yet hardly exchanged a word, sat in Joe Allis-
ter’s car, an open car. They were all looking at
the old man, who knew nothing and understood
nothing except that his only child was sitting be-
side him and holding her arms about him.
The screams and shouts became louder. The
soldiers were helpless. The auto was surrounded.
It could not proceed and had to stop there. In
jubilation Joe Allister and the five space travel-
lers v/ere carried to the Allister house on the
shoulders of the crowd.
Outside the crowd swayed back and forth. On
this day the entire world had only six names on
its lips, six names before which all the glory of
other persons grew dim.
{.Concluded on Page ISS)
{niustraUd by Marchioni)
A sudden shaft of yellowish luminesence plunges into our midst — these devastating beams are hurt-
ling along in ever-increasing numbers !.
60
AN ATOMIC ADVENTURE
M y first impressions were decidedly vague
and confused. I felt as if I were emerg-
ing from an infinite sleep. As I feebly
struggled back into consciousness, my initial
sensation was one of steady, monotonous sway-
ing, — ^to and fro, — ^to and fro, — ^with a ceaseless
and uniform rhythm. I was aware of nothing
else, except a peculiar, cramped feeling, as if I
had been fixed in an awkward position for ages
and ages.
At first I could perceive nothing about me.
I seemed to be plunged in an in-
terminable sea of blackness.
However, as my benumbed con-
sciousness returned I became
aware of a strange confusion
of lights. Slowly, painfully,
they assumed shapes and mag-
nitude. Gradually, I began to
discern a certain order and reg-
ularity about these luminous
bodies. Above, below, and on
all sides of me they circled and
twisted, trailing after each other
in rotating strings of light.
Their pale yellow luminescence
as they cavorted all about me,
cast a grotesque glow over the
entire scene. I watched in
breathless fascination the end-
less rotations of these spheres
of light. Some-
where back in
the dim re-
cesses of my
mind I experi-
enced a hazy
recol lectio n
that this scene
was not new to
me. I had a
queer sensation
that I had
taken part in a
strikingly simi-
lar episode be-
fore, not once,
but many, many
times in the
period of my
existence. And
yet it all ap-
peared so new,
so strange, so
unutterably bi-
zarre 1
Suddenly I became conscious of a peculiar
phenomenon. Amid all the circling and swing-
ing of countless globes of light I perceived that
a number of them, larger and evidently much
closer than the rest, were rotating about me.
For a moment I was seized with an uncontrolla-
ble impulse to flee. But even in the semi-con-
scious and befogged condition in which I still
felt myself I realized that I had no means of
escape. The only movement of which I found
myself capable was the inexorable rhythmatic
vibration that had ushered me out of the sleep
WILLIAM LEMKIN, Ph. D.
of ages into the first feeble state of wakefulness.
With awe and fascination I watched the gyrat-
ing bodies of light — my bodies of light, I re-
flected, with almost a sense of pride. I lost all
thought of the myriads of other luminous
spheres that danced and played in flashing
circles of concentric light all about me. Round
and round my satellites raced, — and I soon per-
ceived that there were, in all, six of them that
swung around me as their centre. Two of these
shining balls chased each other around in a
circle of their own, a short
distance from me. Beyond those
I counted four others rotating
rapidly in a circle of somewhat
larger diameter, — all equally
spaced and tagging after each
other in a dizzy whirl. After
my first sensation of alarm and
anxiety had passed away I con-
tinued to observe with mounting
admiration this smooth and
ceaseless circling. Where was
I ? What were these strange
lights? Why did they gyrate
in this fascinating, hypnotic
manner? Somehow I could not
live down the feeling that this
was all a perfectly natural state
of affairs, that I belonged here,
that I had always been here, —
and that I
61
would continue
to remain here
for eons to
come.
Presently I
turned my at-
tention to mat-
ters outside the
little sphere of
activity of
which I was the
centre. In all
that seeming
chaos of lights
that extended
in all directions
beyond my own
private circle I
began to make
out some sem-
blance of order
and regularity.
[ perceived with
great elation
that I was not alone. In the semi-gloom that
blanketed this strange scene like a dark mantle
I saw that there were many other entities like
myself, all swinging through space, to and fro,
with that same rhythmic oscillation that char-
acterized my own motions. And out of that
bewildering confusion of pale lights I soon ob-
served that each of these beings, like myself,
was the centre of rapid rotation of luminous
bodies. In every case, as far as I could see in
all directions about me, each one of them pos-
sessed six glowing spheres, two in an inner
T here are many people who say that with the growing
complexity of our machines, the machines are acquir-
ing an intelligence or even a soul. Tho this is perl^ps
a far-fetched statement, yet one who watches the operation
of a complex machine which performs a number of delicate
motions with super-human precision cannot help but feel
that the machine has a personality of some kind.
Suppose a machine could think. What then would be its
reactions to the world about it? They would perhaps be in-
tensely interesting to us, and very instructive. Or suppose
matter in general possessed consciousness and was aware
of the experiences that it suffered in passing thru its vari-
ous forns under the hand of man what would it have to say
to us? These are all subjects full of dramatic possilnlities
and our author has taken one of them to construct one of
the most entertaining, instructive and yet exciting stories
we have yet told.
62
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
circle and four in an outer circle, concentric with
the first.
And then I saw that we were all lined up in
rows and coiumns and tiers, each following this
regular, periodic vibration, with no tangible
means of support, and yet held in our relative
positions as by invisible bonds of some elastic
substance. What a beautiful scheme, I mar-
veled. Here indeed was a uniformity of arrange-
ment, and a regularity of activity that surely
was more than a mere accident or coincidence.
Obviously, in this marvelously intricate mechan-
ism in which I found myself, there existed some
salient purpose for my presence as well as the
presence of this vast assemblage of my fellow-
beings, whose lot I had come to regard as simi-
lar to my own.
Bewilderment
M y revery was abruptly terminated by a
rough exclamation from my left:
“Say, you, over there! Can’t you look where
you vibrate? Your No. 5 electron came darn
close to knocking my No. 8 out of its orbit.
Why don’t you learn how to control your proton
attractions a little better? Watching you some-
body would think you never directed an outer-
shell electron in your entire existence. After
being a carbon atom all your life, it seems to me
you ought to have acquired a little skill in hand-
ling the job I”
Electron ! — nro ton ! — outer-shell ! — carbon atom !
— these words burned into my consciousness.
I was left gasping and bewildered. Somewhere
I recalled having heard them before. At some
time in my existence I felt they had been com-
mon expressions in my every-day language. But
now they rang strange and hollow.
Slowly and laboriously I turned in my vibra-
tory path so as to ascertain whence the complaint
originated. I perceived that my immediate
neighbor to the left was showing signs of ex-
treme agitation. He swung to and fro with an
aminous hiss, which he managed to make doubly
threatening whenever our oscillations brought
us closer together. Even his satellitic bodies of
light glowed with a brighter sheen and whirled
with increased celerity in their double circles.
I looked about timidly to see if my other neigh-
bors around me had taken cognizance of the
situation. Apparently none of them was aware
of anything unusual, or else, if they had heard
the raucous protest, they showed no signs of it
to us. Again I turned to my belligerent fellow
and managed to stammer:
“Really, sir, I-I-I’m awfully sorry that I came
so near to you. You see I — that is — if you —
what I mean to say — I — don’t quite understand
w-w-what this is all about!”
I could perceive that my idiotic gibberish was
not making things any better between us. My
neighbor continued his threatening swings, ac-
companied by that bellicose hissing.
“Don’t understand it?” he ejaculated derisive-
ly. “Why, you blooming moron, you act as
though you were born yesterday. Haven’t you
been vibrating there as a carbon atom for the
last 3500 electronic age-cycles?”
My confusion increased. I was more befud-
dled than ever by these strange terms and ideas,
—strange and yet touching faintly some respon-
dent chord in the dim recesses of rpy memory.
“Honestly sir,” I managed to blurt out. “It
may sound totally incredible to you, but I don’t
know who or what I am, where I came from or
why I am here. Everything about me is new and
bewildering — but I seem to have a hazy recollec-
tion of having been here before.” My courage
mounted as I continued. “You speak, sir, of
things that carry to me only the vaguest memo-
ries. I have been asleep — unconscious — ^yes dead
for a long, long period of time. Whatever I
knew of my position and duties in this vast or-
ganization, I have forgotten. My former knowl-
edge and impressions whatever they were, have
been completely effaced. Nothing remains with
me but the most nebulous film of associations.
Everything about me now is inexplicable — unin-
telligible. I feel as though I have emerged
from a stupor of ages — I — I — ."
My warlike neighbor regarded me suspiciously
and I halted in my earnest ^pleadings.
“You don’t believe me!” I exclaimed implor-
ingly. “You think that I’m reciting a fairy tale,
don’t you? Oh please sir — please — !”
“Humph ! — ” he growled, “It does listen like a
pretty cock-and-bull story.”
I could almost feel his burning scrutiny pene-
trate my being like a searing flame. “How long
do you say you’ve been in this — this uncon-
scious condition?”
“Truly sir, I don’t know. Nor am I aware of
how or why I ever entered that state.”
“Well now, let me see,” he mused, and I
shuddered in anticipation of his words, “some-
how it seems to me that you have been acting
sort of queer as long as I have known you — and
goodness knows that’s a mighty long time.
Never seemed to take much interest in the rest
of us atoms all around you, — always moping
around by yourself as if you were too high-
class, — or else just plain dumb.”
I winced at the gross accusations, but I dared
not reply.. My far-fetched tale was evidently
beginning to appear more reasonable.
“During the entire period that we carbon
atoms have been thrown together,” he continued
reflectively, “and that’s somewhere in the vicini-
ty of 3600 electronic age-cycles, — you didn’t as
much as give us, your closest neighbors, a single
nod or a gesture of recognition. We just put
you down as hopeless, and paid no attention to
your fool presence.”
“Unconscious, you say? Mm! — That’s the
first time I’ve ever heard of a carbon atom, or
any other atom, for that matter, getting into
such a condition before. The only way I can ex-
plain it is that you suffered some queer twist
during the last condensation — some unheard of
strain or internal warping that knocked you out
for all those ages of time. As far as I know
there’s no record of any similar accident. And
yet— there doesn’t seem to be any good reason
why such a state is not possible. In this marvel-
ous existence of which we are only a minute
AN ATOMIC ADVENTURE
63
speck, can someone say that an 3 rthing is im-
possible?”
I was immensely bolstered by the changed at-
titude of my erstwhile antagonist. Things were
certainly coming ray way, I reflected joyously,
and now was the time to clear up in my mind
those vague impressions and mystifying phe-
nomena of which I found myself so suddenly a
part.
“I am very anxious to learn, Mr. — er — Mr. — .”
“CX-197-J is my atomic designation, in our
present environment; if you care to know yours,
it’s CX-196-J. And for pity’s sake please cut
out that mister. Just call me CX-7 — that will be
sufficient to identify me around these parts.”
“Very well, CX-7, and thank you. I am very
anxious to get some information regarding this
strange world all about me. You have dropped
a few ideas in your remarks that are practically
meaningless to me. Can you please tell me what
this whole thing means?”
My evident eagerness and sincerity had soft-
ened him considerably, and he was not at all
averse to discussing the matter with me in great
detail.
“Well, it is very obvious,” began CX-7, “that
the strange twist or whatever force it may have
been that was exerted on your anatomy must
have had a radical effect on your memory, if you
can’t recall anything more than the vaguest im-
pressions from your past existence.
“In the first place, you must bear in mind that
you are a carbon atom, a minute speck of mat-
ter, similar in appearance and properties to
countless billions of other carbon atoms. You
have your central portion, or nucleus, consisting
of positive charges of electricity, called protons,
together with a number of much larger particles
of negative electricity, called electrons. Your
nucleus, however, always has an excess of six
positive charges. Outside your nucleus is the
field, consisting of six electrons revolving in two
shells or orbits with a total of six negative
charges. These balance the excess positive
charges in your nucleus, so that yon are, as a
whole, electrically neutral. Almost all your
weight is concentrated in the nucleus which is
several hundred times as heavy as an orbital
electron.”
CHAPTER II.
Atomic Prisoners
I WAS fascinated at the revelation of how com-
plex my internal structure really was. I
glanced at my six satellites of light dancing in
swift circles about me, and marveled at the
beauty of the arrangement. I peered about me
at the spinning electrons of my neighbors, won-
dering what Superior Intelligence had devised
this intricate mechanism and was regulating its
smooth operation.^
“But we carbon atoms are not the only mem-
bers of this great universe of ours,” continued
my neighbor. “I have heard it said by those
whose knowledge cannot be questioned that there
are in all ninety-two different kinds of atoms,
some very abundant and others of extreme rari-
ty. As yet I have met less than half of them,
but I expect to come in contact with most of
them before I’m through.”
“Ninety-two!” I echoed. “And how are the
other ninety-one distinguished from our own
carbon atoms?”
“Easily enough,” laughed CX17. “All the
atoms are made up of the same ‘substance’ or
‘material’ if you wish to call it that. It is
electricity. And all atoms are distinguished
from each other by the number of electrons that
revolve in the external field, which, in turn, is
determined by the number of excess protons
in the nucleus.
“Now you take the simplest atom of all, — ^the
hydrogen atom. It has one excess proton and
on revolving electron. You cannot conceive of
any structure that is more elementary than that.
It is the lightweight of all the atoms, — a sort
of dainty fairy queen that flits about with the
utmost ease and grace. Perhaps I’ll be able to
point out some of these atoms to you soon. I’m
sure you’ll enjoy meeting them. On the other
hand, you take our heaviest atom, uranium, the
super-heavyweight among us. It has no less
than ninety-two electrons all revolving about
the nucleus in eight distinct rings. There are
two electrons in the first ring of the electronic
field, eight in each of the second and third,
eighteen in each of the fourth, fifth, sixth and
seventh, and two in the eighth ring. Just imagine
the complexity of such a ponderous atom!”
I could hardly grasp the full import of. his
description. Such a vast mechanism of elec-
tronic motion was far beyond my feeble powers
of comprehension.
“But just one point, CX-7,” I interrupted.
“All about us I see nothing but our own kind, —
hundreds of carbon atoms. At least, I t^e
them all for our kind, because I can count their
electrons and each has six, revolving about the
nucleus in two rings. Where are all those other
kinds of atoms that you tell about? Where
have you met them, and how will I ever have
the opportunity of seeing them?”
“Ah,” my friend laughed, *Ve carbon atoms
are grouped together here in a sort of exclusive
society. We form a part of what is known as
coal ; — do you have any recollection of the name?
— coal !”
My expression was one of complete blankness,
and he continued:
“Well, my dear CX-6, you have much, — very
much to relearn after your long lapse of memo-
ry. We members of the carbon family, — you
among us, of course, — ^have lain here for count-
less ages. Once, yes many times, we were united
with other atoms of all kinds, to form complex
structures. These groupings are called mole-
cules. Some of them consist of only two atoms.
Frequently there are several hundred joined to-
gether in a most elaborate pattern to form a
single molecule.
“But our associations have melted. We have
lost our accompanying atoms, they have gone
to seek other unions, and here we are, closely
packed and patiently waiting for the time when
we are delivered into a more active existence.”
64
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
“Prisoners !” I gasped, — ^“Confined here to per-
petual solitude!”
“No, no!” was my friend’s reassuring com-
ment. “Don’t put it that way. We are merely
held here temporarily. The period of our de-
tention in this place is only a fleeting instant,
compared to the total extent of our existence.”
“Only an instant!” I expostulated. “Why, you
told me a little while ago that we have been in
this same spot for 3600 — ^what was it — electronic
age-cycles?”
“True enough, but do you know how old you
and I and all of us are? There is no record of
when we and the other ninety-one atoms came
into existence. We have always been here, al-
ways! And how long do we expect to live?
Forever! — yes, forever! Ah, my dear CX-6, you
look puzzled, — my tale sounds as far-fetched as
yours did to me at first. But weird as it seems
it is truth itself. The atoms that make up all
matter con neUker be created nor destroyed.”
Eternal Change
I COULD think of nothing appropriate to say
in order to express adequately my conflict of
ideas and emotions, so my neighbor went on:
“Far, far above us there exists another world,
— a world of brilliant light and gorgeous colors,
— a world of life and contrast. That realm is
far different from this cramped and gloomy
existence in which you and I now find ourselves.
And in that world located above us there lives
a race of beings, tremendous in their size, and
powerful in their strength and capabilities. Each
member of this mighty tribe is nothing but a
vast bundle of atoms, — all kinds and varieties, —
knit together in a most elaborate pattern. But
the central figure in this intricate network is the
carbon atom, such as you and I, and all our
fellows about us here. We hold the supreme
position in its make-up. Without us life itself
would be impossible for this huge race.”
“And what is the name of this clan,” I asked
eagerly, “this tribe that lives far above us, and
depends for its very existence on us alone?”
“Man,” was the reply. “The human race.
Each individual is a remarkably complicated or-
ganism and endowed with phenomenal power,
principally because he has a complex central
station that organizes,*directs and motivates the
rest of the mechanism. This central station he
calls his brain.”
“Tell me more, CX-7,” I begged, “about things
in this marvelous world that is located far above
us. Are there any other organized beings that
exist there?”
“Many others,” he replied, “thousands of dif-
ferent varieties, of all shapes and sizes. They
are constructed on the same principle as man,
but are far less complex in their make-up. He
has classified them all into groups and divisions,
such as bacteria, insects, plants, birds, reptiles
and mammals. Each consists of millions of
atoms like ourselves, hooked up with millions
of other atoms from the ninety-one varieties
that exist, and the entire structure is organized
and coordinated to the minutest detail. Yet all
of these beings are inferior to man, because of
his elaborately constituted central station, — ^his
brain.”
I was anxious to learn how my friend knew so
much concerning that distant and intricate
world that lay above us all, and I questioned
him eagerly about it.
“All of us atoms,” CX-7 explained with a
gesture that embraced the entire circle of our
comrades around us, “have been there, — even
you, although you have no recollection of it.
We have been part of the structural substances
of many human beings, as well as of the other
forms of living organisms. Their bodily ma-
terial is constantly changing. There is a con-
tinuous building up process and a breaking down
process, — a constant flux and movement, in
which elementary substances like ourselves are
derived from the destruction of complex organi-
zations, only to be reconstructed once more into
different and more complex molecules.”
“I tell you, CX-6,” he continued, “the world
above is one mad whirl of excitement, — a dizzy
but a fascinating game. One is always on the
move. There is always something new turning
up. Things never have a chance to get stale.
I know you’ll be delighted when our time comes
to join in the activities up there.”
“But,” I queried, “why are we confined in this
gloomy prison down here, without any chance
of participating in the lively doings of this other
world that you have described? Have we car-
bon atoms committed some crime for which we
have been banished to this inactive condition of
— of what do you call it — coal?”
“We have been here a long time,” was my
neighbor's reply, “but our day will come before
long. You see, CX-6, our last combination in
the upper world was in the structure of some
plants. We were closely tied up with many
other atoms, principally hydrogen and oxygen.
Then these plants ceased to function as a unified
organism, — that is, they died. The complex
mechanism of which we were a part fell into a
state of decay and disruption. Great masses of
material accumulated over us and packed us
down with a pressure that increased as time
went on. Our allied atoms, the hydrogen and
oxygen and the others that had been joined with
us to make up the molecules of the living plants
began to loosen their ties. Evidently they felt
no little disgruntled at this rough treatment.
Perhaps they were confident that they could do
better with other associations, and under dif-
ferent conditions. At any rate they left us, —
one by one and in small groups, until we carbon
atoms are now alone, or practically so. Here
and there throughout our society, you can still
find a few of those atoms that have not been so
flighty and impatient as the rest. You will ob-
serve a number of them still maintaining their
old associations with us, true to their former
partners, and ready to stand by us to the very
end.”
My friend now proceeded to point out to me
some of these loyal atoms that had cast their
lot with the carbon clan down here in this out-
of-the-way locality. True enough, I had, in my
first hasty inspection of the scene, somehow
AN ATOMIC ADVENTURE
65
overlooked certain alien beings that I could now
see were different from the rest. Off to one side
I made out an actively vibrating nucleus with
one shining electron pursuing a lone course
about it. I had no difficulty in recognizing this
foreign member as a hydrogen atom. There
were a number of them in a group, and they
seemed to be joined to the adjacent carbon
atoms by some invisible bond. Peering about
with whetted curiosity I discovered some dist-
ance above us and to the right a collection of
atoms that appeared to have a structure not very
different from our own. This new atom had two
electrons swinging around in its inner circle,
but its outer shell, I could make out, contained
six instead of four revolving satellites. On
closer inspection of the immediate vicinity I soon
became aware of a goodly number of these,
scattered about in pairs and in larger groups.
Inquiry from my obliging friend elicited some
startling information.
“These are oxygen atoms, — the most abundant
atoms in this sphere of matter. The oxygen
atom is a most active and powerful one, — al-
ways willing and eager to effect a union with
other atoms. The wise men of the human race
up above regard it as of vital importance in
their vast organization. Notice that it differs
from the carbon atom by only two electrons in
the field about the nucleus. And that small dif-
ference is enough to make us two absolutely
dissimilar entities. The leaders of thought
among men designate the oxygen atom by the
number eight, which they term the atomic num-
ber. It really tells how many free electrons re-
volve in the field of the atom. By the same sys-
tem, you and I have an atomic number of six,
the hydrogen atom has an atomic number of one,
the uranium atom, ninety-two, and so on.
perfectly simple arrangement, isn’t it?
“And yet, obvious as this classification appears-
to you and me, it wasn’t until very recently that
those great thinkers, — scientists, they call them
up there, — discovered the truth about our struc-
ture. At first they had no idea altogether about
our individual existence. They knew that a few
of us occurred in the aggregate, — as carbon, iron
or gold. Then came one of their wisest, — ^he
was known as a chemist — and his name was
Dalton. He was the first to offer the notion that
all matter was composed of atoms. But he
thought of an atom as a smooth, round, hard
portion of carbon or oxygen or any other elemen-
tary substance. He had no conception at all of
the intricate complexity of the atom. Of late,
however, many advances have been made in their
study of our microcosmic realm. No human be-
ing has ever seen us, because they have no in-
strument that is delicate enough to search into
our relatively minute sphere. In spite of this
handicap, however, they have succeeded in mak-
ing a fairly accurate guess at the way we atoms
are built.
“I have often had the good fortune to be
present when some of their most renowned
chemists have played around with the atoms, as
though they were toys. I’ve seen thesb -wise men
building up complex structures consisting of
hundreds of atoms, — ^they call the process synr
thesis. These elaborate molecules artificially
created in this manner were often found to be
superior to the natural substances for the par-
ticular purposes to which these scientists put
them. Indeed, they have even improved upon
nature, devising new configurations whose prop-
erties and uses were accurately predicted even
before the substance took shape. Oh, they are a
wonderful people, this race of human beings!”
'There is just one thing,” I interjected, “that
I don’t quite understand. With our existences
separated by so wide a gulf, — ours being so
minutely small, and theirs so enormously large,
— how is it possible for you to have such de-
tailed information about their lives, the work
they do and the thoughts they think?”
“That’s easy enough,” laughed CX-7. “Al-
though we are so tiny in comparison to them,
■we have a degree of intelligence of which they
haven’t the remotest idea. They do not regard
us as sentient, thinking beings. What a sur-
prise they would receive, were they to learn that
our intellectual capabilities far "surpass any-
thing they ever dreamed possible in us. It is
true that we have as yet found no means of en-
tering into communication with them, but we
can follow their work and ideas, and read their
innermost thoughts with ease. And some day,
my dear CX-6, you too will acquire that experi-
ence and degree of intelligence which we all pos-
sess. Once you get out of here and mingle free-
ly with the other atoms of our world you will
acquire ideas and aptitudes which will place you
on a par with all the rest of us. Then you will
find yourself able to understand everything that
goes on in your existence. The world you live
in will be an open book to you.”
I thanked my friendly informant for his lucid
explanation of this elaborate and bewildering
scheme of things. With great anticipation I
looked forward to the time when we should all be
liberated from this cramped dungeon. Then my
round of adventures would begin. I thrilled at
the mere thought of the unbridled freedom and
lack of restraint that I would enjoy.
CHAPTER III.
A Terrible Experience
A gain I fell to marveling at our unusual
position in this nether region. It was while
turning over and over in my mind the mass of
queer facts which I had gleaned from CX-7 that
I again became aware of my strange oscillatory
motion. Somehow after the first shock of my
reawakening I seemed to have become oblivious
to this constant to-and-fro movement which all
my comrades as well as I possessed. I observed
that many of them swung back and forth in
groups, particularly when joined up with some
alien atoms. Hastening to inquire from my
obliging friend the reason for this constant com-
motion, I added another important fact to my
ever-increasing fund of information.
“All matter,” explained CX-7, “is in a cease-
less state of vibration. Each particle, large or
small, simple or complex, possesses this oscilla-
66
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
tory motion to a greater or less degree, depend-
ing upon outside circumstances. At times the
rate of vibration is relatively slow. At others it
is so rapid as to threaten the complete disrup-
tion of the structure. To the human being up
there this motion manifests itself in the form of
a sense reaction which they term heat. When all
vibratory motion ceases, these Iseings refer to
the condition as the absence of all heat, — they
call it the absolute zero.”
“Have you Qver been in that state?” I asked
eagerly. “What are one’s sensations when all
vibration stops?”
“I’ve been pretty close to the point they call
the absolute zero,” was my friend’s answer, “but
I’ve never had the opportunity, or perhaps the
misfortune, of hitting the very bottom of the
scale.” He laughed softly to himself. “You can
take my word for it that the sensations are not
at all pleasant. I happened to be in a group of
molecules being experimented upon by one of
the great scientists of the human race, — ^they
classify him as a physicist. He certainly put us
through our paces in a most horrible fashion.
First he crowded us together under a crushing
force until we almost cried out in our pain.
Then he unexpectedly released the tremendous
pressure on a few of us, and we were tumbled
about in such a frightfully precipitous manner,
that it was the greatest miracle we weren’t all
smashed up in the terrible confusion.
“Evidently this scientist knew just what he
was doing, for he repeated the process over and
over again, until he had reduced a handful of
us to a state of almost complete exhaustion. We
now scarcely experienced any vibratory move-
ment at all. Numb, almost motionless and hard-
ly aware of what was going on about us, we clung
to each other grimly, wondering when the next
instant would be our last. But even though I
felt myself drifting along in a hazy, semi-con-
scious state, seemingly hanging on the very brink
of an imminent and awful oblivion, my courage
was bolstered by one singly thought: Matter is
indestructible! Atoms cannot be created nor
wiped out of existence! The most fundamental
precept of these wise men of the human race is
the Law of Conservation of Matter. Atoms can
be united in groups or the partnerships dissolved.
New and complex molecules may be erected and
subsequently broken up. But when we get down
to the very bottom of things there is a certain
sum total of matter in the universe which has
always been the same, and will always remain
the same, — even to eternity.
”I clung to this idea with a dogged tenacity
even when our prospects of ever coming out alive
from this fix were dimmest. And presently
things took a turn for the better. Apparently the
scientist was finished with his experiment, — per-
haps he found himself unable to get the desired
results, — we never knew what the determining
factor was. At any rate our tiny group of be-
numbed particles suddenly began to experience
the glow of life returning. We commenced our
oscillations once more, slowly and painfully at
first, but with increased vigor as we found our
strength returning. Soon we were vibrating as
cheerfully as ever again, none the worst for our
harrowing experiences, — with perhaps the ex-
ception of a haunting memory.”
New Activity
D own here in our coal kingdom the carbon
atoms had a system of time measurement
that was based on the rotation of the electrons
about the nucleus. It was a rather involved sys-
tem, and I will frankly confess that I never truly
mastered its intricacies. However, one thing I
came to know very definitely, — ^that an “electron-
ic age-cycle” was an exceedingly long stretch of
time.
As these recurring cycles succeeded each
other, I became more familiar with my surround-
ings, and more intimate with my immediate
neighbors. They were all willing to answer any
questions that I might want to ask regarding
some point in our strange existence about which
I was unfamiliar. Often they told me of things
and happenings in the outside world of activity
that supplemented and enlarged the mass of
knowledge that I had derived from my first con-
versations with CX-7. But he always remained
my closest and dearest comrade. To him I al-
ways turned with my most perplexing questions,
for I was certain of obtaining fullest explana-
tions. His travels had been varied and adventur-
ious. His supply of facts was enormous, — well-
night limitless.
Often CX-7 spoke of another vast universe be-
yond even that of the humans above us. He told
me of our own relatively small portion of matter
called the earth , — although to my primitive in-
telligence its size was almost beyond compre-
hension. He described the movements of this
body, — ^he called it a planet , — at an enormously
huge distance from a central body of matter, —
termed the sun. He told of the planet’s periodic
revolution about this great centre, as well as its
own rotational motion about an imaginary axis
He mentioned other planets by name, — similar
bodies of matter, some larger and some smaller
than the earth, which followed their own orbits
about the sun.
“So much like our own little selves,” he said,
“with our central nucleus and revolving elec-
trons, but tremendously, — yes infinitely larger.”
And beyond this sun-group of planets, — ^he re-
ferred to it as the solar system , — there lay even
larger systems, reaching out into infinite space, —
until the very thought of such never-ending vast-
ness se^t my poor mind reeling crazily.
A period of somewhat more than 17,000 elec-
tronic age-cycles had now gone by since my re-
awakening. Things moved along in our little
realm with about the same cadence as ever. To
tell the truth, I was beginning to feel terribly
cramped in my meagre location. Every age-cycle
was like every other age-cycle. I felt the shadow
of drab monotony creeping into my existence.
When I ventured to voice my feelings to my
neighboring atoms they smilingly reassured me
of better days in the near future.
“Don’t you worry, little carbon atom,” said
CX-7 .with firm assurance. “Very soon we’re all
going* to be delivered from this monotonous life.
AN ATOMIC ADVENTURE
67
Just be patient. And once you get into the open
freedom of the world above your existence will
be such a mad whirl of life and action that you
will readily lose all recollection of these dark
ages of imprisonment in coal.”
True enough, the time suddenly came when I
began to sense the approach of unusual events.
I became aware of queer rumblings that seemed
to come to us first from above and then from
all sides. Faint and distant at the start, these
indications of strange activities began to get
stronger and more pronounced as time went on.
It appeared to me as though there was extensive
drilling and hammering going on all about us.
Occasionally we felt strong concussions, and vio-
lent spasms of vibration were transmitted from
one atom to the next until we quivered to our
very last electron. These were ominous times
for me ; — sensed the dawn of a new existence,
and yet I dreaded the sudden transition from a
dormant life to one of intense commotion and
activity.
“They, — the humans above, — have com-
menced mining operations,” announced CX-7
with glee. “It won’t be long now before they
reach our stratum, — and then , — ” It was evi-
dent from his significant pause that he looked
forward to the liberation with the highest antici-
pation.
I felt the rumbling and knocking coming
louder and closer. Presently it became impos-
sible for us to communicate with each other on
account of the din and commotion. Then sud-
denly there came a cataclysmic upheaval. I
felt myself myself being ripped from my posi-
tion and thrown about in the wildest corifusion.
My electrons rolled crazily in their orbits, twist-
ing and straining until I thought they would
momentarily break away and be lost in the
chaos. When I recovered my senses somewhat,
I discovered to my great joy that I was not alone,
as I had at first thought. I found myself in a
group of my fellow atoms, who had apparently
been separated from the rest. But the most ex-
tra-ordinary thing about the new state of affairs
was that we were no longer in almost total dark-
ness. A strong, white light now bathed our lit-
tle group and reflected through our skeleton-like
structure with blinding brilliance.
I turned to find CX-7 still at my side, en-
joying my startled expression with unconcealed
merriment.
“Frightened, aren’t you?” he laughed. “Feels
like the end of the world, doesn’t it? Nothing
more terrible has happened than that we have
been blasted out of our underground prison and
carried up into the sunlight. Yes, sunlight," he
repeated in answer to my expression of doubt.
“That’s the natural form of illumination in this
upper world. Rather uncomfortably dazzling,
isn’t it, after so many ages in the semi-darkness
of our coal existence.”
CHAPTER IV.
A Fascinating World
T hen followed a period of considerable ex-
citement and commotion, during which our
small group of carbon atoms was alternately
tumbling about roughly, and lying inactive. At
times the brilliant sunlight, to which I had now
become accustomed, was cut off from us, and we
were again enshrouded in sombre gloom, punc-
tuated only by the faint luminescence of our re-
volving electrons. Fortunately, these periods of
half -darkness were not so frequent, and I learned
to enjoy the warming embrace of the sunlight
rays. In response to the stimulus I found myself
vibrating more rapidly in my to-and-fro path,
and I was surprised and no little delighted that
all my fellow atoms were doing likewise. There
appeared to be a general increase of activity in
the group since we were brought forth from our
nether home.
“Remember,” explained CX-7, “what I told
you some time ago about heat. It is a form of
energy that is associated with molecular and
atomic agitation. The effect of the sun’s rays
upon us is to make us vibrate faster. This in-
crease in our activity manifests itself to human
beings through their sense organs as warmth.
Isn’t this new life exhilarating?”
I agreed enthusiastically and turned to ob-
serve more of the wonders in my novel surround-
ings. I presently became aware of another
strange phenomenon, — something I had never
met with in my previous existence. As we lay
grouped together in the bright sunlight I noticed
strange masses passing by. They came singly
and in bunches, some flitting by lazily, others
rushing along in a mad hurry.
CX-7 anticipated my question, and answered
it before I could put it into words:
“We are now out in the open air. This sub-
stance, air, is something totally different from
our own medium. It is made up of several kinds
of atoms and molecules, but the interesting part
of it is that these particles are not fixed in semi-
rigid positions as we carbon atoms are. Air is
known in this realm as a gas, while coal is an ex-
ample of a solid. In a gas’ the individual particles
are relatively far apart, and are therefore able
to move about with utmost freedom. We carbon
atoms are packed together so tightly that there
is no chance of our doing much in the ways of
motion. There is another state in which matter
exists. This is called the liquid state, and here
the particles of matter are not so distantly sep-
arated that they can move about with no re-
straint, nor are they so close together that they
give the substance rigidity. Theirs is a happy
medium. They maintain their relative distances,
but they are able to slide over each other with
the utmost smoothness and facility.”
Just then one of the gas bodies swung close by
our position. So near did it brush that one of
my outer electrons came very near being knocked
out of its orbit. Its passage was rather leisure-
ly, and in the interval of time that it was close
to me I had a good opportunity to observe its
peculiar structure. It certainly was like nothing
that I had ever seen before. Two atoms were
fused together, not touching, but held apart a
short distance by what appeared to be some
strong, yet unseen force. On closer scrutiny I
thought I recognized them as oxygen atoms, for
I had seen similar atoms down in our coal stra-
68
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
turn. Yes, to be sure, they were oxygen atoms,
for I could count eight electrons circling about
each.
But no! — Another double atom swept by and
I observed that it was made up of two slightly
smaller units, more nearly approaching my own
size. I could make out seven electrons in the
field of each atom. This was a substance with
which I was yet unacquainted. Another oxygen
pair, and then two or three more of the new
variety. I began to see that the oxygen groups
were greatly outnumbered by the others.
The next diatomic mass that spun by, — ^it hap-
pened to be of the oxygen class, — studied more
closely, and I found a complexity in its move-
ment that was bewildering. It seemed to have
a number of different motions incorporated in
its make-up. In the first place the two atoms,
separated from each other by a space, were
tumbling over each in the most comical fashion.
As they tumbled, they dragged along with them
their revolving electrons, which maintained their
steady gyrations in two distinct orbits about
each nucleus. In addition, this strange couplet
maintained an independent vibration induced by
the energy from the sunlight. And lastly, it had
a propulsive motion that carried it close to me
and then beyond into the maze of particles
above me, until it was lost from sight. One can
better imagine than describe the composite
whole of all these independent movements, the
whirling, zig-zagging dizzy flight of this double
creature.
“More explaining is now in order,” smiled my
ever-willing CX-7. “The.se oxygen atoms that
you see teamed up in pairs represent the normal
state of the element in the gas form. It seems
that oxygen atoms are either unable or unwilling
to roam about singly. Something in them, some
indefinable urge, impels them to join up in this
manner, and travel in pairs. Perhaps it is some
kind of social instinct, — or else just plain lone-
someness. At any rate, that is how you will al-
ways find them in the air, — circulating by twos,
— ^with the union between the partners so firm
that nothing will sever it until the time comes for
the element to enter into combination with other
atoms in the course of various chemical actions.
Strange as it seems, this fusing of two oxygen
atoms results in the formation of what is called
an oxygen molecule, which you can see is con-
siderably less complex than most of the mole-
cules that are built up from different kinds of
atoms.
“But you notice, CX-6, that the oxygen mole-
cules are greatly outnumbered by another kind
of molecule ; in fact the actual proportion is five
to one. These numerous ones are molecules of
nitrogen, another of the gaseous elements. Here
also, the atoms always travel in pairs. In fact,
the same may be said of all such elements — .
But wait. I’m mistaken, I almost forgot about
argon, the lazy one. — ^Lookl^ — do you see that
large individual over there? He has eighteen
electrons revolving in three rings. Notice how
slowly and haughtily he moves, as if he had not
a single concern in the world. And he’s all by
himself, — wandering about aimlessly and alone.
He has never been known to hook up with any
other atom, either his own kind or another. No
one knows what his mission in life is, — I daresay
not even he himself. He has a reputation for
sluggishness and general inactivity that is hard
to equal anywhere. Fortunately there is only a
small number of his particular type present in
the air, so that you need have no worry about his
presence here.
“Now there is just one more member of this
air community,” continued CX-7, “that you ought
to meet, one that I am sure will be of most inter-
est to you. Let me see if I can point him out to
you. — Yes — ^there is one now, over to the right,
just sliding in between those two nitrogen mole-
cules.”
With a little difficulty I was able to single out
the object of my friend’s attention. I was startled
to recognize as its central unit a carbon atom
like myself. In some mysterious way he had
managed to connect up with a pair of oxygen
atoms, whom he held firmly, one on each side.
The entire structure, with the maze of whirling
electrons, was tumbling and skipping about in a
most hilarious fashion.
“Carbon dioxide!” my neighbor explained.
“Usually the first step in the cycle of change
from our present position. Compared to the
other constituents in the air in the matter of
numbers this molecule is almost out of sight. On-
ly about one in every 4000 is a carbon dioxide
molecule. But important? There isn’t a single
component, with the possible exception of oxy-
gen, whose function in life is of more vital neces-
sity. Wait, CX-6, until you reach that stage in
your activities. You’ll soon come to realize what
an essential factor you are in this vast scheme of
things.”
A Fiery Inferno
I COULD have remained there and watched this
kaleidoscopic parade of molecules forever,
but unfortunately I was not the master of my
destiny. Some superior unseen force was in con-
trol, and 1 as well as all my companion carbon
atoms had no choice but to obey. I felt our coa-
lescing group being tumbled and rattled about
in a most unceremonious manner. One moment
we would feel ourselves moving along smoothly.
The next instant we were hoisted aloft, up, up
until it seemed as though there would be no ^p.
Then suddenly we were plunged down through
a dizzy descent until we were brought up at
something firm and unyielding with a crash that
almost tore our electrons from their paths. This
treatment was repeated any number of times,
until I wondered if we were going to spend the
remainder of our existence in such a manner.
At last we seemed to come to rest for good.
We were no longer in the brilliant sunshine of
which I had become so inordinately fond. In-
stead there was a mantle of gloom all about us
that was strangely reminiscent of our under-
ground coal habitation. Were we, I thought,
again to be imprisoned in that horrible place for
ages upon ages of time? My comrade, CX-7, at
my side throughout all the vicissitades of our
hectic adventures, hastened to allay my appre-
hensions :
AN ATOMIC ADVENTURE
69
“Sssh! — Nothing to worry about my dear
CX-6, — nothing to be afraid of. We’re now
several steps closer to our final delivery. This
place in which you find yourself at present is a
coal-bin, belonging to some human, and located
down in the lower part of his dwelling. Here
we are stored,— countless billions of us, — but not
for long. Soon we shall be called upon to be of
service to this man, and in doing so, we will gain
our freedom. We shall be forced to enter into
chemical combination with other atoms, thus
producing heat energy to warm his home. The
price wo are paid for performing this duty is the
most cherished of all, — our liberty!”
My friend’s prophecy was fulfilled sooner than
I expected. But things had been happening with
such bewildering suddenness that I was but mild-
ly surprised when 1 felt myself being lifted bodi-
ly, along with the other members of our little
coal party. We were carried a short distance
and then suddenly dropped into a veritable in-
ferno.
All my previous adventures were mere play
compared to my present predicament. Below
me was a seething turmoil of activity. I observed
countless other carbon atoms vibrating with such
extreme agitation as to emit a fiery red glow.
There were hundreds of them hissing and sput-
tering in their mad excitement. I felt myself
bombarded by flying missiles on all sides. Under
the contagious influence of this confusion I too
soon joined the hubub, and presently I was con-
tributing my own healthy share to swell the uni-
versal pandemonium.
Suddenly, in the midst of the general chaos,
there came from below a mad rush of oxygen
molecules. In and out through the groups of
pulsating carbon atoms they plowed their way,
rolling and tumbling over each other in that pe-
culiar fashion which I had observed up in the
sunlight only a short time ago.
And then I perceived an extraordinary phe-
nomenon. Our staunch carbon ranks were being
disintegrated. With almost fiendish abandon
each pair of oxygen atoms seized hold of the
nearest carbon atom and fairly yanked him out
of his spot, — electrons and all. Even in this
feverish rush and excitement I could see that my
comrades were not averse to this treatment. In
fact, each one seemed to reach forward as the
captivating oxygen couplet approached, and
once the contact was made, he kicked and tugged
at the invisible bonds that fastened him to the
rest of us, as though tired of our company, and
anxious to be oif on new adventures.
So this was the grand delivery, I mused. I
wondered vaguely if it hurt. I wondered how I
would act when my turn came. Rapidly the on-
slaught of oxygen molecules was ripping vast
holes in our structure. Our front melted away
and disappeared as each wave came tearing up
from below. This was war, destruction, — but
strangely welcome to us nevertheless. What an
anomaly 1
My companion CX-7 remained staunchly at my
side, whispering words of encouragement as the
lurid action continued. Then with a whirlwind
suddenness we found ourselves in the very thick-
est of the fray. A stalwart oxygen molecule, all
aglow from its passage through the fiery mass
below us, pounced upon CX-7, and he was sum-
marily torn from his moorings. I heard his last
cry of cheer to me, saw his final gesture of fare-
well, and then he soared upward in his new
company, and was swallowed up in the furious
storm of recently created molecules rushing on
into the open air.
I turned to find that I was next. Already niy
would-be captors, or companions, or what shall
I call them? — had seized me with a strange, un-
seen force, and were pulling me away from my
remaining comrades. To my vast astonishment
I felt some sort of unconscious urge to join this
strange couple, — an indefinable pull or attrac-
tion toward them, the like of which I had never
experienced before. I yielded readily, and with
lazy abandon I permitted myself to be drawn
away from my resting place and bom aloft in
the ascending current.
For a time I was conscious of nothing except
that stea^ rush upward. After the compara-
tive inaction of my coal existence, I was drunk
with the giddy exhilaration of the flight, — swift
and unrestrained flight. On all side I could sense
the same gay enthusiasm. All about me the
newly created carbon dioxide molecules, — And
I now realized with a pleasant shock that I was
one of them too, — bounced and skidded over
each other as if to give expression to this feeling
of exultation.
The dark passageway through which we were
flying came to an abrupt end, and I found my-
self, with my companion oxygen atoms, sailing
along in dazzling sunlight once more. It was on-
ly then that I became aware of the full signifi-
cance of my newly-bora freedom, and I almost
shouted aloud in my exuberance.
Out in the open air I found a decided change
of conditions. The carbon dioxide molecules,
all terrifically agitated from the violent reac-
tion that had taken place in the flaming volcano
below had an opportunity to cool off and assume
a state of relative composure. Once away from
the confines of the place where we had been gen-
erated, we scattered in all directions, mingling
with vast crowds of oxygen and nitrogen mole-
cules that surged all about us. Soon I lost sight
of the rest of our own kind and found myself
all alone, with my two companions, swamped in
a sea of gas molecules. As in my former ex-
perience with air, I found the greater major of
them to be nitrogen.
It was natural that, after becoming accus-
tomed to my new surroundings and changed
mode of life, I should scrape up an acquaintance
with my recently acquired companions. They
weren’t bad-looking fellows at all, — one on each
side of me, forming a sort of protective barrier
as though to shield me from anj' injury. I mar-
veled at how closely they resembled me in struc-
ture. And yet what a difference those two ad-
ditional electrons in their outer ring made ! All
the difference between a gay, vaporous oxygen
atom flying about in the air and a cold, hard
inactive carbon atom sunk deep below ground !
70
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
CHAPTER V.
New Companions
ELL, Carbon,” began my companion on
* » the right, “let’s get acquainted! I’m
Oxy-one, and my pal over on the other side is
Oxy-two. How do you like us as your new travel-
ing partners? I guess if not for us, your travel-
ing would be very limited indeed.”
“There now!” rejoined the other oxygen atom,
“bragging again, aren’t you!” And then turn-
ing to me apologetically he added: “Don’t pay
any attention to him. He’s inclined to be a little
chesty about his own importance.”
It was not long before I had explained to my
partners that I wasn’t an ordinary carbon atom,
making the same rounds over and over again, —
that this was my first trip as far as my present
recollections served me. At first they were in-
clined to doubt my story, but my evident sincer-
ity finally won them over. They listened atten-
tively as I recounted my awakening from the
sleep of ages down in the coal region, of my com-
plete lapse of memory in regard to my former
experiences. I told them of my companion atom,
CX-7, about his lengthy explanations of the
world we live in, its flux and change, its human,
plant and animal inhabitants, and of the part
we all play in the operation of this vast existence.
“So you see, my friends,” I concluded earnest-
ly, “it is just as though I had been newly created.
This trip of adventure on which we are now
launched is to all purposes my first, — if I have
ever taken any others I cannot remember them.
And, except for what CX-7 told me about the
outside world, 1 don’t know what lies ahead of
me.”
My partners agreed, laughingly, that I was the
queerest carbon atom with which they had ever
been hooked up, — surely the greenest of all they
had met, — and they admitted having associated
with a good number of my family. With perfect
good nature, however, they expressed their will-
ingness to initiate me into the gay and open ex-
istence of this atmospheric life.
“Tell me about yourselves,” I asked. “From
what CX-7 explained to me I received the im-
pression that you are of very great importance
up here.”
“Without trying to be boastful,” smiled Oxy-
two, “I daresay we are of the greatest importance,
— at least to all living or organic things on earth.
In the first place, we are the most numerous of
all the atoms. About fifty per cent of all mat-
ter, — at least in that portion of the universe that
is called earth, — is oxygen. We are present, not
only in the air, as the free element, but also com-
bined with other atoms in liquids, such as water,
and in all kinds of solids that are found on the
earth’s surface and deep below the surface too.
We are extremely active chemically, by which I
mean that we will combine readily with practi-
cally all of the existing atoms. That’s more than
any other element can say about itself, I don’t
care which one you mention. And the fact that
we cannot make a perfect 100 per cent score in
the matter of combination is no fault of ours. We
have made repeated advances toward the four or
five stubborn atoms that refuse to unite with us,
but they are absolutely unapproachable. Lazy,
indifferent, good-for-nothing, ambitionless, that’s
what they are. They show no prejudices either,
for they shun all close company. I guess you’ve
met argon, ringleader of this unsociable clique.
He and the few atoms like him float around here
aimlessly through the air, with not a care or a
sensible interest in this life. I’m sure you’ll meet
them all sooner or later.”
“Our mission here,” added the second oxygen
atom, “is one on which all life upon this planet
depends. We carry on the process of oxidation
in plants, animals and human beings. By this
process heat is produced, as well as the energy
that enables the organism to live and do work.
It is through our agency that all combustible
things burn. In fact, the late turmoil in which
we took part, — I don’t think you can forget it so
easily, can you? — was nothing more than a very
rapid oxidation of the members of your carbon
tribe. Man uses this process to heat his dwelling
during the cold seasons of the earthly year. He
bums fuel to generate power so that he could
light his home when the sun is not sending down
rays upon his side of the earth. He employs this
power also to run great engines, to move huge
masses, and to perform a thousand miracles of
strength and skill.
“Notice how few we oxygen molecules are in
the air, when compared with the great numbers
of those other molecules, — nitrogen. About one
particle in every five is a member of our family.
Do you know why? It’s just a device to keep us
in check. If we were permitted to accumulate by
ourselves we would exert so much combined
power as to cause an awful conflagration. There
is practically nothing that would withstand our
strong appeal to unite with us, and once such a
general action started no power on earth could
stop it. It has therefore been found necessary to
mix large numbers of practically inert nitrogen
molecules. They serve to dilute the oxygen mole-
cules, to diminish our strength, and thus to min-
imize the danger of our running amuck.”
Secretly I felt myself flattered to be thrown
into such fiery company. There was a thrill at
the thought of so much vigor and energy being
associated with these harmless looking atoms that
clung on each side of me. Here, I said to myself,
was all romance and adventure for which 1 had
been aching.
A Scandalous Idea
T he three of us got along famously. They
supplied me with a great deal of information
about the world and the living inhabitants of all
kinds that peopled it, both on the surface, in the
air, and in the vast stretches of liquid matter
which they called oceans. I, in turn, enlightened
them considerably on what I knew of atomic ex-
istence in the only region with which I was at
present familiar, — ^the depths of the earth. Ap-
parently it had been many ages since they had
last had the opportunity of living in the nether
regions so that their notions in regard to them
were very vague. I did not know much, but I
made a fairly creditable effort to set them aright
AN ATOMIC ADVENTURE
71
on conditions in the shadowy, yet fascinating and
romantic land of coal.
The longer we were together in our own priv-
ate little molecule, the more I wondered and mar-
veled at our basic atomic structure. From the
very start, when we first joined forces down there
in that fiery furnace, I was struck by our great
similarity of make-up.
"Isn’t it queer,” I once remarked to Oxy-two,
"how much alike we are, and yet how vastly dif-
ferent? Now my nucleus is practically the same
as yours. We are both made of the same sub-
stance, — ^the thing that humans call electricity.
We both have two rings of electrons revolving in
orbits that are about alike in size. There’s just
that tiny difference you have eight satellites, and
I have only six. And yet that small difference
places us worlds apart in appearance, properties,
behavior and chemical action. That small dif-
ference makes you oxygen and me carbon.”
"True enough,” echoed Oxy-two seriously, —
"you ^re carbon and I am oxygen, — and all be-
cause of that apparently trifling matter of elec-
trons. Did you ever realize, my dear atom, that
even a difference of one electron in our rotational
fields is enough to create just as fundamental a
disparity as exists between you and me? Surely
you must have met our good friend nitrogen. His
position is right between carbon and oxygen in
this classification. He possesses seven electrons,
and his atomic number is seven. Nevertheless he
resembles me no more than he resembles you.
He is just as far-removed from us in ideas and
behavior as he is from the remaining eighty-nine
members of our atomic world.”
"It just occurred to me,” I remarked, — "but
no! — That’s a terribly silly notion.” I laughed
half to myself, and turned to my oxygen asso-
ciates. "Well, maybe it’s not such a foolish
thought after all. What would happen if you
were to lose one electron from your outer shell?
Or, suppose I were to gain one electron. That
would give us each seven, — exactly the same
number as nitrogen has. Would you and I change
into atoms of nitrogen?”
I looked inquiringly from one to the other of
my companions, and I observed that they were
deeply puzzled by this apparently simple sup-
position.
“I never did look at it that way,” mused Oxy-
two thoughtfully,” — although I don’t see any
other answer, — yes — I guess we would become
nitrogen atoms, wouldn’t we partner?” turning
to the other oxygen particle.
"Not unless we were subjected to a correspond-
ing alteration in our nucleus structure,” was Oxy-
one’s guarded reply. "Remember, carbon atom,
your constitution depends upon a perfect balance
of opposing forces, positive and negative charges
of electricity. In order for this change which
you suggest to be effected you must add a posi-
tively charged proton to your nucleus, to compen-
sate for the addition of a negatiyely charged
electron to your outer ring. Otherwise you would
be electrically unbalanced. Likewise, if I lose
an electron from my field, I must also relinquish
a proton from my nucleus.”
"And such changes,” added Oxy-two, "are un-
heard of, — ^the idea is positively scandalous! To
think of a self-respecting atom ever stepping out
of its own designated station in life and trying to
be somebody else! Why it’s — preposterous!”
"I merely thought,” was my hasty rejoinder,
"that such alterations are not beyond the realm
of possibility. With atoms and molecules always
moving about in vast crowds, bumping, scraping,
colliding with each other, doesn’t it seem likely
that one of them might accidently have an out-
side electron knocked off? Particularly the big
fellows, — ^those with the high atomic numbers,
and with six or seven electronic rings, containing
eighty or ninety electrons in their field. I can-
not see how an atom can possibly keep track of
eighty or more whirling electrons all at the same
time. Just suppose that I were, let say, an atom
of uranium. It seems to me that, if I should, as
a result of some extra-violent collision, accidently
lose one or two electrons from the out-lying dis-
tricts of my structure, I would never even miss
them.”
"Well,” retorted Oxy-one, "as far as my know-
ledge goes, it has never happened, — and remem-
ber that atoms and molecules have been colliding
from the very dimmest beginnings of time. Atoms
have always behaved in a perfectly sane and con-
ventional manner. Their internal structures have
always been regarded as permanent and un-
changing. There is no case on record where a
carbon atom has ever been anything but a car-
bon atom, nor an oxygen atom anything but an
oxygen atom.”
"Hold on a moment!” interrupted Oxy-two
hastily. “It seems to me I have a vague recollec-
tion of certain rumors that traveled around a long
time ago concerning the unusual behavior of one
of the atoms. Something about losing electrons
and changing into simpler atoms. It was all
hearsay, yet the reports circulated for a long
period. Now let me see, — what element was
that, anyway? — one of the heavier substances,
I’m positive, — ^why, — ^to be sure ! — wasn’t it that
rare element radium f’
"Now that you mention it,” rejoined Oxy-one
thoughtfully, "I do remember some talk about
radium. They say that those atoms persisted in
breaking the unwritten law of atomic integrity.
But everything was rumor, — ^nothing definite, —
no real first-hand information about this alleged
phenomenon. I’m sure the stories were all just
a lot of slick publicity material, probably in-
tended to put this extremely rare atom promin-
ently in the public eye. That’s the trouble with
those fourth rate elements. They’re jealous of
our great abundance and our vast importance in
this scheme of things. Some of them are always
trying to edge in a little and capture for them-
selves an unearned position of popular favor. I
never paid much attention to those far-fetched
tales about radium, and no one else did either.
I’m certain.”
In spite of the evident scepticism of my friends,
I was not so easily dissuaded from my pet belief.
The idea seemed entirely logical to me, and I
could not see why such a phenomenal occurrence
as losing electrons was so hopelessly impossible.
And furthermore, what about those reports in re-
72
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
gard to the strange action of this rare element
radium? Surely, rumors do not persist without
some semblance of foundation.
I pictured to myself how delightful it would
be if an atom were able, at will, to slice off or
take on electrons. What a huge field of rom-
ance lay ahead of such a fortunate individual!
Now, one kind of atom, — at another time some
different kind ! — ^new experiences and new thrills
at every turn and every change! — no longer re-
structed to the humdrum life of a carbon atom,
or a hydrogen atom! — ^the whole vast gamut of
atomic adventure would be at one’s command!
Indeed a thought to fire one’s imagination.
I cannot explain by what remarkable coinci-
dence I was destined to have my little experience
with radium so soon after our conversation on the
subject of atomic disintegration. Surely, the in-
cident could not have occurred at a more oppor-
tune time, for I was worked up to the highest
pitch of enthusiasm regarding the possibilities of
such changes.
CHAPTER VI.
Radium, — ^The Mystery
O UR little carbon dioxide molecule Ead now
been floating about in the air for a consider-
able period of time, without anything more thrill-
ing than the continuous buffeting by the ocean of
oxygen and nitrogen molecules. I was beginning
to entertain grave doubts as to whether this new
life was really so terribly exciting. To be sure
we were in a constant change and flux, never
resting, always in motion, — ^yet, one tires of that
too, after an interminable stretch of the same
purposeless roving. Conversation among the
three members of our little unit began to lag no-
ticeably. There was very little new to talk about,
so that for the most part, we remained speech-
less.
It was only a short time after our talk about
radium, when, during the course of our mono-
tonous drifting, I suddenly became aware of a
mysterious change. There was some sort of rest-
less uneasiness among the atmospheric mole-
cules that flew by. They appeared to be more
agitated, — ^in a greater hurry, — and yet I could
see that it wasn’t associated with any increase
in vibration that I knew accompanies a rise in
temperature. And yet I could feel that our own
molecule seemed to be bowing to the same mys-
terious influence, for, unconsciously we found
ourselves thrilled and activated by an uncontroll-
able force.
Suddenly there was a startled exclamation
from Oxy-two.
“Did you see that?” he gasped. “It flew right
by us, off to the left ! — something round and lum-
inous, — and what speed! — ^just like a flash!”
“There’s another!” I blurted out in high ex-
citement, “and another — ^two more — why there’s
a whole stream of them !”
Electrons!” whispered Oxy-one in awe. “Free
electrons! — more and more of them ! And they’re
not revolving about a nucleus, — ^just traveling by
themselves! — And did you ever see such speed?”
These detached luminous balls of negative
electricity, identical with the electrons that
circled so obediently around our own nuclei,
were now flying past us in hords and droves.
There were so many thousands of them and their
velocity was so tremendous that they created the
impression of continuous luminous streaks tear-
ing through our world. How many air molecules
were hit, I don’t know. What damage was
wrought by this cloud of flying missiles, I cannot
tell. By some miraculous fate we were spared
any disastrous collision.
In the face of this fiery bombardment, when
all else was fleeing panic stricken before the
strange onslaught, I suddenly conceived the idea
of edging toward the centre of the disturbance to
find out what was the cause. I had no difficulty
in winning my companions over to my scheme.
Adjacent air molecules counciled us against the
foolhardiness of flying blindly into danger.
“It’s radium!” cried a nearby nitrogen mole-
cule stopping in his precipitous flight with a
breathless message of warning. “The rar§ ele-
ment, radium ! His atoms are breaking up !
There are some terrible things happening over
there in the centre of that upheaval. Keep away !
It’s sheer suicide to approach!”
“So that is what’s causing all the rumpus,” I
shouted to my partners. “Radium! All the
more reason for investigating. Come on, Oxy-
one ! — Oxy-two ! — let’s go !”
As we drew closer to the spot from which the
seething thousands of electrons appeared to be
flying, we perceived a new kind of emanation in
the form of atomic particles. They also came in
streams, but they were larger, and traveled at a
much slower speed than the electrons. I could
see that they were atoms of some strange sort,
for each consisted of a central nucleus, like my
own, only much smaller, with two electrons
circling around it in a single orbit. Oxy-one
promptly recognized them as helium atoms, — one
of the rare and inert gases associated with argon
in the atmosphere.
In all the turmoil and excitement we managed
to corner one of the rapidly moving helium atoms.
Taking advantage of the momentary shelter af-
forded by a crowd of air molecules that shielded
us somewhat from the steady electronic bombard-
ment, we pressed him for information about the
radium disintegration.
“Let me go!” he pleaded. “I’m in a terrible
hurry! Yes — ^that’s radium in there, — my own
parent element, — breaking up — decomposing —
exploding! I’m a new atom — just born — I’m a
product of atomic. disintegration! — and I’m in a
terrible rush ! — please, please let me go !”
We permitted him to slip by, and he soon dis-
appeared in a stream of his fellows all hastening
away from the centre of the storm. As we ap-
proached closer, we found signs of greater, more
violent agitation. There was a raging bubbling
chaos of atoms, molecules and electrons, and our
own solitary carbon dioxide molecule was pum-
meled and driven about until we were bewildered
and almost overcome.
Then suddenly we burst in upon the very cen-
tre of commotion. In the mad blast of electrons
that shot out at us we were almost swept from
AN ATOMIC ADVENTURE
73
our position, but we managed to hang on and
view the appalling drama of atomic disintegra-
tion.
The middle of the stage was occupied by a
fiery clump of matter, consisting of masses of
seething protons and electrons, the like of which
I had never witnessed. I could see that the rad-
ium atoms, huge and ponderous though they
were, milled about in the throes of a violent com-
motion. There was a steady and deafening stac-
cato of explosions, and as the hundreds of radium
atoms burst apart there issued streams of fiery
electrons and newly created helium atoms, flying
off into space in all directions. Another emana-
tion sprang away from the disrupting radium
atoms, but its speed was so terrific that I was un-
able to obtain any clear image of it. The residual
portions of the old radium atoms continued to ex-
plode at intervals, sending off repeated showers
of electrons. Further and further the dramatic
breaking-down process continued, until, after a
series of newly formed and short-lived atoms had
come and gone, one form remained. Dropping
away from the violent activity of the rest, these
remaining atoms collected in a corner, sizzling
and trembling from their feverish evolution.
“Lead atoms!” whispered Oxy-two, in an awe-
stricken tone, “the end-product of the radium de-
composition!”
We remained in our position as long as we
dared, but eventually it became entirely too haz-
ardous for us to maintain our watch, and so we
yielded to the swift current of flying particles,
and were born rapidly away from the vivid and
dramatic scene. Presently the streams of elec-
trons thinned out. We slowed up in our progress
and before long were back again amid the famil-
iar environments of our atmospheric existence,
none the worse for our daring sally into the very]
jaws of certain destruction. Once again we
rubbed familiai'ly against oxygen and liitrogen
molecules, who seemed to be totally unaware of
the existence of the fiery region from which we'
had just come.
The lurid picture of an atom crumbling in its
innermost structure remained indelibly burned
into my consciousness. I had not even the faint-
est suspicion that before long I myself would play
the leading role in a similar drama of disintegra-
tion and destruction.
Through the Green Prison
O UR little carbon dioxide molecule continued
to roam about, more or less aimlessly, al-
ways on the move, never lingering at any one spot
long enough to get acquainted. Impelled by
some mysterious driving force we felt ourselves
egged on to continuous motion. We were alter-
nately bathed in warm sunlight, and plunged in-
to almost impenetrable darkness, the periods fol-
lowing each other with methodical regularity.
This rotation of light and dark, my oxygen
friends explained, were called by man day and
night, and it was the method he used to measure
the passage of time. Evidently, he knew nothing
about our own complex time-measuring system,
based on the periodic rotation of our electrons.
Sometimes we soared up, up into the rarefied
strata of the atmosphere, where, although the sun
shone brightly, there was a numbing chill about
us, and our vibratory motion became feeble and
sluggish. In those upper regions we felt our-
selves practically alone, for we would travel vast
spaces before encountering any other atmospher-
ic molecules. For the most part, however, we
kept close to the earth’s surface, where, although
living conditions were more crowded, still it was
comfortably warm, and there was that feeling of
security derived from the physical presence of
myriads of other molecules all about us. Some-
how, I didn’t mind the buffeting and colliding so
much. — I regarded it all as an essential concomi-
tant of my existence as part of a gaseous mole-
cule.
Then one day, during One of the periods of sun
luminosity, our molecule began to enter a region
of vast green shadows. Oxy-one informed me
that we were passing in the vicinity of leaves , —
the appendages growing on plants. Ah, yes, —
I had been told all about plants, their abundance
on earth, — ^their importance, — and this was my
first contract with them.
We were carried by a swift current toward a
huge orifice, — so large an opening as to encom-
pass my entire vision. It was one vast green cav-
ity that yawned and swallowed a thousand mole-
cules in its maw. I found myself in a spacious,
dimly-lighted chamber, that towered and
stretched to magnificent distances. A dull green-
ish glow percolated through some mysterious por-
tions of the distant roof and walls. Everywhere
the green hue prevailed. I was fantastic beyond
description.
“Now you’ll see some action!” whispered Oxy-
two. “We’ve just entered through a stoma, lead-
ing to the interior of the leaf. Our time has
come, my carbon friend, — ^we shall soon part
company. Old associations melt,” he laughed
softly, “new ones are bom, — such is the existence
of all of us, — ^this is the ceaseless routine we will
follow until the very end of time.”
Within the vast chamber there was a scene of
bustling activity, — it appears that whenever
molecules get together into intimate contacts
there is always a scene of bustling activity. I re-
cognized more carbon dioxide molecules all
about me, as well as free double-oxygen mole-
cules, and many water groups. These latter I
had met before in my wanderings, — a single oxy-
gen atom fused with a pair of those flighty hy-
drogen atoms of which I had heard so much.
Prom what I could gather, the chief commo-
tion inside of the leaf centered about the carbon
dioxide and the water particles. They were be-
ing lined up in some complex structure, whose
nature I could not for a moment make out. The
masters of ceremony seemed to be a scattered
few molecules having a bright green color, and
a complicated makeup that I was riot able to
fathom. I could discern a number of carbon
atoms in their structure, as well as oxygen and
hydrogen atoms, but the configuration was total-
ly strange to me.
“These are chlorophyll molecules,” remarked
Oxy-two by way of information. “They are the
bosses of these works. They control the chief
74
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
process that goes on in the leaf, — ^the process of
photosynthesis or starch-making'*
More new terms, — more strange experiences, I
thought, but I was resolved not to become fright-
ened at any unusual development. I could see
that the very essence of atomic existence was
change, — change — nothing but change.
Under the hypnotic influence of the nearest
chlorophyll chief we moved along swiftly to a
spot that he designated, where we found others
like ourselves waiting. I saw a group of carbon
atoms lined up in the form of a chain, with hy-
drogen and oxygen atoms making contact here
there and everywhere along the chain. Autom-
atically, almost as though I had been doing noth-
ing else all my life, I slipped into the unfinished
structure. Oxy-one was gently dislodged from
my side and slid smoothly away to join up with
the third carbon atom from me, Oxy-two, hug-
ging me closely, reached out and apprehended a
stray hydrogen atom which he held fast. I found
myself securely tied by invisible bonds to the car-
bon atoms above and below me, as well as to the
other members of our chain.
So swiftly did this synthetic process proceed
that before I was aware of it I found myself an
integral part of a sizeable molecule. Oxy-two,
the remaining partner of my former association,
told me that we were now part and parcel of a
starch molecule, and that we were in line for more
activity in a short time. In looking about me, I
could see that, instead of there being one long
carbon chain, as I had first believed, the new
structure consisted of units, each made up of six
carbon atoms in a string, together with ten hy-
drogen atoms and five oxygen atoms. How many
such single units there were in the starch mole-
cule I could not perceive, but there was no doubt
that the structure of this new substance was ex-
tremely complex.
After a small group of starch molecules had
been built up from the component materials, we
felt ourselves dislodged from our resting place,
and began to slide along in a definite lateral di-
rection. We were joined by similar groups, and
soon we were a considerable body of newly
formed molecules, all moving as though being
born by a smooth current. Presently we found
ourselves no longer in the vast green factory
chamber. We were now in a wide passageway
sloping gently downward. The light was very
dim, although I could make out with no great
diificulty that the walls were constructed of sta-
tionary molecules, in close formation. I could
see that the carbon atom constituted the build-
ing nucleus of these structural molecules.
Our journey down through the darkened pass-
ageways seemed to be interminable. What new
adventures, I mused, lay in store for me at the
bottom of this dizzy descent? Oxy-two reas-
sured me that things would now be somewhat
uneventful. How long a period, he didn’t know.
We were traveling down to the roots of the plant,
below the ground he told me, there to be stored
away. He was unable to say what sort of a plant
this was, nor how long our confinement would
last. We reached bottom at last, a cold, gloomy
network of chambers, strangely reminiscent of
my coal kingdom. The starch molecule of which
I was a porticm was pushed along not too gently,
and finally came to rest along with many others
in an out-of-the-way comer of one of these cham-
bers.
My spirits sank at the prospects of another
cheerless spell of imprisonment. Still fresh from
the care-free existence following my delivery
from the coal condition, I rebelled inwardly at
this return to a cramped and monotonous life. I
had tasted of the sweets of liberty, and I felt not
at all willing to change back to my former state
of inactivity.
I soon entered into conversation with the near-
by carbon atoms in our chain, and they assured
me that my fear of protracted imprisonment was
goundless: They informed me that we were
now part of a potato plant, and were stored away
below ground in a portion of the plant’s root sys-
tem. I was relieved to learn that our confinement
in this state would last for a comparatively short
period, — only a few weeks as reckoned by man’s
process of time-recording, — and no more than a
fleeting instant when measured by our own elec-
tronic rotational system.
CHAPTER VII.
A New Life
O UR time soon arrived and I discovered that
the new sensations were not unlike those
that I had experienced when I was dislodged
from my coal existence. But there was now none
of the violence and terrific commotion that I re-
membered from that period. I was conscious of
a distant scraping and rumbling, and then I felt
our group of starch molecules being lifted bodily.
More movements, now up, now down, — more
periods of rest, some short, some long. Then I
gradually began to sense that familiar increase
in vibratory oscillation which I now knew was
associated with heat.
“Cooking!** was the explanation of Oxy-two la-
conically. “Our potato is being prepared for
human food. Just another step in this endless
cycle of change and adventure!’’
I experienced no radical alteration as a result
of this cooking process, although I heard from
my neighbors that the heat had softened the
walls of our prison chamber. Then followed
a bewildering succession of events. I found our
molecules being churned up with others, some
simpler in structure, but most of them of greater
complexity than our starch group. During these
hectic occurrences I was able to learn from my
comrades that the potato was being chewed hy
some human being, swallowed, and mixed with
various materials in this being’s stomach and diges-
tive system, to render us soluble. Strange as these
terms were to me (and stranger the actual
events), I had come to accept all new happen-
ings as if they were perfectly commonplace mat-
ters.
In these digestive processes taking place deep
down in the stygian depths of this creature’s
anatomy I found that many of the strange mole-
cules near me were undergoing a radical break-
ing down into simpler substances. Even our own
AN ATOMIC ADVENTURE
75
complex starch molecule began to divide up in
conformity with a certain definite plan of dis-
solution. A number of passing water molecules
attached themselves to our structure, and pre-
sently the whole bulky organization fell away
into a scrambling group of individual carbon
chains, which had formed the units of the orig-
inal starch molecule. Each new structure now
contained six carbons, twelve hydrogens and six
oxygens, and I found myself occupying nearly
the central position of one of these chains. A
neighboring atom referred to our new molecule
as glucose, or grapesugar, (what names to confuse
and befuddle an uninitiated carbon atom like my-
self!)
The glucose molecules were now endowed
with greater alacrity, for being so much smaller
they were able to slide through spaces and crev-
ices that would have halted them while in the
starch stage. Oxy-two whispered to me that we
were now digested, and would next proceed to
pass through the lining of this human creature’s
digestive system into his blood stream. And pre-
sently, after much devious twisting and sliding,
our glucose molecule found itself floating along
smoothly through some huge passageway, urged
on by a swift pulsating current of countless other
molecules. Many of them I recognized, but a
few were strangers to me. On all sides of us
floated huge red masses composed of thousands
of carbon-bearing molecules. On and on we
rushed in that rhythmatic surge, driven forward
by some gigantic push that repeated itself like
powerful blows behind us.
Soon the vast passageway narrowed, and the
pulsing became less and less pronounced. In the
diminishing stren^h of the current we now
moved more sluggishly. I learned that we were
passing through the capillaries, the finest of all
the tubes that made up the elaborate circulation
system of this individual. Presently we were
squeezed through the wall-like structure of the
tunnel and found ourselves in a huge chamber
that one of my friends characterized as a cell.
Here we came upon further scenes of activity.
So many different things were going on all about
me that I could obtain no more than a confused
impression of the kaleidoscopic whole. Mole-
cules were being torn apart and their component
atoms seized upon and reconstructed into dif-
ferent entities. Free atoms were scurrying
hither and thither with an air of bustle and im-
portance. Orders flew back and forth, com-
mands were issued by unseen directors of the
activities, and almost in a flash they were carried
out. As our glucose molecule retired somewhat
to one side, awaiting our final disposition in this
theatre of activity, Oxy-two explained to me that
this cell was the unit of plant and animal life
on earth. Here all functions of living things were
carried on, all the processes effected which made
up the life of the organism. And it was with a
sense of pride that I observed what a paramount
role in this drama of action and change was en-
acted by my own kin, — ^the carbon atom.
Our turn came soon. The recently formed glu-
cose molecule melted away under the influence
of some mysterious disintegrating force. I found
myself momentarily floating about alone, for the
first time, it occurred to me, since my existence in
coal, long — oh so long ago. Then, in the next
instant, I found myself seized by a pair of oxy-
gen atoms that appeared to come from nowhere
at all. Automatically I accepted their proffered
bonds, and found myself again the central figure
of a carbon dioxide molecule.
What a relief to be in so simple a structure
again, instead of in those bulky and awkward
starch and glucose arrangements. I felt myself
free and unhampered now. Skipping, sliding,
bouncing along merrily, we, — ^my two new oxy-
gen partners and myself, — presently emerged
from the cell and into a blood capillary once
more. I discovered many more dioxide molecules
in the stream, as well as new sti’uctures that I
learned were waste products of the processes
taking place in the cell. In fact, I learned with
surprise, and not a little chagrin, that we carbon
dioxide particles were regarded as just as much
of a waste product as the others. Oh, well, I as-
sured myself, it's all a part of the life of the atom.
And I was certain that I would not remain a
waste material very long.
In the blood stream we hooked up with a scar-
let material of an undistinguishable complex
structure. It was not my choice at all to engage
in this union ; it was effected rather by a myster-
ious attractive force emanating from this red
body. On questioning one of my oxygen atoms
I learned that the colored material was hoemo-
f 'Jobin, and that our combination with it was pure-
y temporary, intended only to facilitate our pass-
age through the blood stream.
Our way led through numerous tunnels
branching into each other, until we found our-
selves surging through a passageway of such
prodigious proportions that I could not discern
its boundaries. We passed through a tremen-
dously vast chamber, or a series of chambers,
wher the turmoil and commotion was terrific.
This I learned was the creature’s heart, the cen-
tral pumping station that drove the blood with
its burden of material throughout the complex
network of tubes in the body.
Again through a huge passageway, and pre-
sently through narrower and narrower tubes, un-
til we were back in the capillaries again. Here
I began to discern a roaring, rushing sound, simi-
lar to the noise made by millions of rapidly mov-
ing molecules up in my former existence in the
atmosphere. Presently we found ourselves dis-
lodged from the hoemoglobin of the blood
stream, and together with countless other free
carbon dioxide molecules were squeezed through
narrow crevices and hurtled out into empty
space. And as we sped outward, I perceived a
rush of oxygen molecules, descending from
above, and crowding into our old positions in the
hoemoglobin molecules of the blood.
Dispossessed ! — and yet happy to get out of our
confinement and into the state of gaseous free-
dom, once more. With a rush and a roar we were
forced upward and violently expelled into a blaze
of sunshine. We had just passed through the
lungs of this human creature, and were now once
76
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
again in the familiar environment of the atmos-
phere.
Monotony,— And Tragedy
B ack in the air, with hordes of nitrogen and
oxygen molecules all about us, and occasion-
ally a molecule like ours, I began my customary
round of activity. First it was this combination,
and then that atomic union. Drifting and wan-
dering, joining up with others, or traveling alone,
I was in a constant process of change and ex-
change. Now I found myself in some mineral
below the ground, then I was part of a plant,
tten food for some animal, then part of his body,
then expelled in some molecular union or other,
and so round and round, without an aim, without
a serious purpose in life, just drifting and wan-
dering wherever the forces of chemical attraction
impelled me. Sometimes I found myself alone, —
more frequently in the company of other atoms,
but ever moving, changing, building up, breaking
down, ever “on the go,” and ever a carbon atom.
Often, in my quieter moments I thought back to
that time, it seemed so distant now — when I was
a witness to the atomic disintegration of radium.
The supreme enthusiasm that fired me on that
memorable occasion had not completely left me.
The romantic possibilities that opened themselves
at the mere idea of atomic transmutation were al-
most beyond my imagination to comprehend.
What wouldn’t I give, I often thought, for that
unique ability to drop or add electrons, and
change at will from one element to another. The
life of a carbon atom, after rounds and cycles of
the same changes, the same configurations and
associations, had now begun to spell for me un-
utterable humdrum. There were ninety-one
other elements, and therefore ninety-one other
wells of experiences to tap. Surely with the fac-
ulty of atomic transmutation, one could go on to
the very end of time with enough variety and
change to satisfy even the most adventurous.
But I was compelled to admit to myself that
such conjectures were far from the realm of im-
mediate possibility, — at least for myself. I was
no radium atom, and I could never hope to attain
any such distinction in the atomic classification.
With a sinking sense of resignation, I abandoned
myself to my monotonous existence. I often
thought of my old friend CX-7 of the coal stage,
and of Oxy-one and Oxy-two. Somehow, in all
the turmoil of new associations and changing
combinations, these characters stood out preem-
inent in my recollections. Where were they now?
What interminable ocean of molecules separated
us now? Would I ever see them again?
Yes, I did run into dear old CX-7 for a mere
instant, and under the most dramatic condition.
Myriads of electronic age-cycles of change had
inured me to a life of constantly shifting associa-
tions. So that I was nothing more than mildly
surprised to find myself once as part of a strange
bulky molecule, made, up of a number of carbon,
nitrogen and oxygen molecules. We were in al-
most complete darkness, and packed together so
that there was almost no room in which to exer-
cise our customary vibratory motions. What new
configuration was this? But who cared? I half-
dozed lazily in my new berth, wondering vaguely
what my next position would be after this asso-
ciation was broken up.
Soon, however, I became aware of something
different. There was a feeling of tension all
about me that I had never sensed in any of my
other unions. Our configuration in these new
molecules did not appear to be stable or rigid.
The nitrogen and oxygen atoms of my own group
seemed to be tug^ng at their bonds, and sprain-
ing nervously in their assigned positions.
Throughout the entire structure I could observe
an uneasy restlessness, an uncanny undercurrent
of weakness that brooded no good for the safety
of our edifice. Some inexplicable danger ap-
peared to hover over us, as though a mere touch
would start the crash that would hurl us all to de-
struction.
Suddenly I was brought into startled wakeful-
ness by a familiar call at my side. I turned to
perceive CX-7 right next to me in this topsy-
turvy, rickety carbon chain. Our greetings were
warm, although hurried. Somehow, there seemed
to be no time in which to exchange experiences,
much as we should have liked to. That indefin-
able air of grim forboding hung like a pall over
us. Something was going to happen, I felt, and
very soon, at that.
“High explosive!” CX-7 managed to blurt out.
“We’re in a huge shell! — ^War! — ^The humans
are fighting each other, — killing each other, — I
don’t know what it’s all about, no one else does —
not even the humans! — It’s madness, — stark
madness! — and they are using us to hurl death
and destruction at each other! Oh, the futility
of it all! — CX-6, good-bye! — feel we’re going
to part soon, — maybe we’ll meet again, — maybe
under happier circumstances, — ^good-b-— !”
His words were choked off by a tremendous
crash that shook our unstable rtructure into a
seething mass of quivering atoms. The detona-
tion tore me away from my fellows in the carbon
chain, and hurled me into a scrambling heap of
shrieking nitrogen and carbon atoms. Reeling
crazily in the mad turmoil, I managed to seize a
pair of oxygen atoms to form my old familiar
combination. Before we could stop ourselves, a
powerful force shot us upward in a roaring fury
of molecules. At the height of this mad excite-
ment I lost CX-7 again. Vaguely I hoped that
he had fared well in escaping from this inferno
of destruction. Out into the open air again we
shot, and presently the furore died down. Our
vigorous vibration slowed up. Once more I sailed
serenely through the atmosphere, none the worse
for my last harrowing adventure.
Roaming, wandering, uniting, decomposing,
changing,— 4he same ceaseless whirl all over
again ! My recent experience in the- war episode
did not serve to brighten my outlook on atomic
life. It is true that at rare intervals I took part
in incidents that might be regarded in the nature
of comedy. Once I found myself as elementary
carbon floating in a liquid which was known to
the humans as india ink. One of their creatures, —
he was called a cartoonist, — spread me out, along
with millions of my carbon comrades, in the form
of a funny picture, which caused many of his fel-
77
AN ATOMIC
low humans to laugh, especially the younger
members of the species, — ^the children. On an-
other occasion, also as free carbon, I was part of
a printed page in a humorous book made by one
human to be read and laughed over by other hu-
mans. Again, I was one of a vast number of
carbon atoms used once by a member of that
race to blacken his face. In this condition he
stood up before a vast assemblage of his fellow
beings and threw them into convulsions of
laughter by his words and antics.
But my rapidly souring disposition at my lot
prevented me from joining in the merriment of
the situations, or from realizing the part that I
played to entertain those human beings. I had
become an abject pessimist. Nothing but grim
tragedy stared me in the face, and 1 took almost
fiendish glee in the perpetration of or the par-
ticipation in tragic events.
For example, while once undergoing combus-
tion as elementary carbon, I, as well as the other
members of the carbon group, found that there
was an insufficient supply of oxygen molecules
to satisfy us all. A rather selfish scramble en-
sued, with the result that a number of us man-
aged to escape from the group, each united with
only one oxygen atom. In this carbon monoxide
state I found myself in a decidedly dissatisfied
condition. I was morose and sullen at my half-
ration of oxygen, and I found myself glaring
covetously at any free oxygen that happened to
pass me by.
In the course of time a -.large group of our
newly formed monoxide units entered a dark
passageway and I soon recognized the familiar
approaches into a human’s breathing apparatus,
— his lungs. V/ith almost fiendish glee we
pressed our way down into the cavernous air sacs
and through the wall spaces into the capillary
blood stream. We were met by crowds of scar-
let hoemoglobin molecules, all clamoring for oxy-
gen atoms. I laughed unroarlously as our hood-
lum horde of monoxide molecules plunged in,
each seizing upon a hoemoglobin unit and at-
taching itself with a tenacious grip. We pushed
our way triumphantly through the blood stream,
chuckled gleefully at the gasping body cells.
They pleaded for the life-giving oxygen, which
was nov/here to be had, and we danced about in
ghoulish ecstacy as the cells shriveled and died.
Soon I grew tired of this sport, and cast about
to learn what next I could do. I discovered that
the blood was coursing more and more slowly
through the tunnels, and finally reached a point
of total stagnation. The numbing chill of death
pervaded everything, and I shuddered at the
ghastly horror of our mad act. We had poisoned
a human — caused his life processes to cease be-
cause of our presence in his body. And then my
sordid being almost laughed aloud at the pure
deviltry of the whole thing.
It was not long before the work of decay and
disintegration of the man’s corpse had proceeded
to the stage where I was again liberated in the
company of oxygen as a gaseous carbon monox-
ide molecule. Again I found myself wearily
floating in the air, buffeted about by flocks of
ADVENTURE
other molecules, pursuing the same unspeakable
monotony of existence.
CHAPTER VIII.
An Eternal Poison?
1 HAD no idea, when I parted with CX-7 back
in that war-time charge of high explosive, that
I would ever see him again. But even our incon-
ceivbly vast atomic world, it seems, is small
enough for such chance meetings. As part of a
large hydrocarbon gas molecule which was un-
dergoing combustion, I found myself deposited
as elementary carbon on a cold surface, along
with countless others of my kind, in the form of
lampblack, one of the purest forms of carbon in
existence. Sure enough, there at my side rested
good old CX-7, just as he did way back in those
days in the coal stratum.
We had much to exchange, regarding our ex-
periences both before and since our fleeting mo-
ment in the war explosive. When CX-7 learned
about my radical proclivities in regard to atomic
transmutation he was shocked almost beyond
words.
“Come, come!” he pleaded. “Why aren’t you
content with just remaining a law-abiding, self-
respecting carbon atom as you were by nature
designed? This morbid moping won’t get you
anywhere. Brace up CX-6! This carbon life is
not so bad after all. Why, I hear rumors that our
little group here in this lampblack is soon to un-
dergo a wonderful transition, — something in
which few carbon atoms are ever privileged to
participate. Just wait and see, my friend CX-6,
— you’ll be surprised and delghted.”
I mumbled my scepticism in some incoherent
syllables, and assumed a sullen silence. Soon I
felt myself being raised and transported, — where
I was going and for what, was none of my im-
mediate concern. I yielded to everything with
total indifference. Suddenly I found myself pre-
cipitated with violent force into a seething mass
of matter, — I recognized the new molecules as
those of the element iron. And what a boiling ef-
fervescent mass it was! In the terrific heat our
carbon atoms danced and sizzled with extreme
violence. CX-7 and I managed to stay close to-
gether, and in the clamorous turmoil he imparted
to me the information that we were being dis-
solved in molten iron. After a period of this fiery
mixing, we found ourselves suddenly subjected to
a tremendous pressure. From above, below and
from all sides came this crushing force that
gripped and squeezed us until we felt as though
our very internal atomic structure was about to
be wrecked.
My thoughts flew to that memorable occasion
when I stood so close to this di^ntegrating rad-
ium atoms and watched the phenomenal trans-
mutation of elements. Could this present pro-
cess be transmutation too? Was I now to under-
go that dreamed-of change into some other ele-
ment? Semi-conscious under the effect of the
crushing force from all about me, I conjectured
vaguely as to the probable outcome of this pain-
ful adventure.
78
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
Presently, under the terrific pressure, a few
of the carbon atoms were pressed into new posi-
tions, which, strangely enough, I discovered to be
of almost matchless regularity. Where we had
previously been arranged in no particular order
or alignment, we now discovered ourselves situ-
ated in a definite and regular pattern. Even in
the almost unbearable heat and under the vast
pressing force that clamped us from all sides,
I could see a certain beauty about our new con-
figuration that I had never witnessed before.
We cooled very slowly, and during the time that
this cooling process consumed, CX-7 told me what
had happened. “You and I,” he said with evident
feeling, “are now part of a diamond crystal , — still
carbon, remember, but with the atoms arranged
in a definite geometric scheme that is unknown
among the other forms of carbon. We are now
crystailized carbon, — the hardest substance on
earth,- — and a substance of such intrinsic value as
to be prized very highly by all humans.”
“This is the first time in my long existence,”
he continued, “that I have ever been in the dia-
mond state. Once, a very long time ago, I met
a number of carbon atoms in this same crystal-
lized formation. They told me of how they had
been altered from their original condition of dis-
organized atoms in much the same manner as we
have just been changed. But, according to their
explanation, they had arrived in the diamond
state after a long and tedious process that went
on for ages and ages below the ground.
“They told me that the very essence of this
unique alteration is the slow and painstaking re-
arrangement of carbon atoms under the infiuence
of tremendous heat and pressure, and that the
most important factor is time, — eons of time.
Never did I realize that this slow transition could
be speeded up so remarkably. It’s those human
scientists, — ^they have means of duplicating na-
ture’s work and accomplishing it in a fraction of
the time ordinarily required. What powerful
forces they command ! What skill they possess !”
Our diamond crystals were now subjected to an
extensive treatment. The surrounding iron atoms
were melted away by a rush of molecules that
CX-7 told me belonged to a substance known as
hydrochloric acid. We were not affected by this
cleansing agent, and before long we found our-
selves again in the glorious sunlight. The strong
rays of light penetrated our new structure, twist-
ing and rebounding in a most dazzling array of
brilliance. Certainly I never realized that ordin-
arily dull carbon atoms could work such wonders
with light rays. What a remarkable difference
our new atomic configuration made?
I had scarcely become accustomed to my new
situation when I received a bit of news that gave
me a considerable jolt. It was CX-7 himself who
imparted to me the new information. He con-
fided to me, very solemnly indeed, that we dia-
mond atoms were destined to spend the rest of
our existence in this condition. No more change,
he informed me, — no more chemical union with
other atoms, — no more adventuring through
space, — nothing but diamond atoms to the very
end of time. Of this, CX-7 insisted, he was cer-
tain. No one had ever heard of a carbon atom in
this crystallized state ever taking part in any
combinations or reactions. The diamond condi-
tion was eternal.,
A more staggering blow could not have been
dealt to me than the divulging of this startling
information. I could not doubt its authenticity,
for CX-7 was to be relied upon in stating only
what he knew to be absolute fact. The situation
burst upon me with all its horrible significance.
I was a prisoner! Bound and helpless, I was a
much a prisoner here as I had been down in the
dismal region of coal. It was true that there I
found myself in a cold gloomy environment, while
here I was an object of beauty, scintillating with
a profusion of dazzling colors in the brilliant sun-
light. But a prisoner nevertheless! — doomed to
spend an eternity of existence in merely looking
pretty !
And in my bitter anguish, I almost cried out
aloud. To think that I had even grumbled at
the monotonous routine of change and transfor-
mation during my all-too-short period as an or-
dinary carbon atom! To me that life had then
appeared as the very epitome of boredom. And
how I now longed for a chance to go back and
resume that carefree life of chemical change and
combination. That dim and distant hope of ever
being anything but a carbon atom, — that nebulous
dream of transmutation, — ^was now more vision-
ary than ever. I confided my brooding thoughts
to faithful CX-7 and he consoled me as best he
could.
“Transmutation? — That’s too far-fetched even
to think about now. As for leaving this diamond
existence, — well — perhaps I was a little too rash
in stating so confidently that we are destined to
stay forever. As far as I have ever heard there
is not a single case on record where a carbon atom
ever left the diamond state, once he entered it.
But is that any reason for concluding that it can
never be done? Those marvelous humans, — those
ingenious scientists to whom we owe our existence
in this synthetic diamond condition, are capable
of almost anything. It would not surprise me at
all if they should suddenly find some way for us
to relinquish our crystalline regularity and enter
into the same familiar combinations to which we
are accustomed. And as for transmutation. I’ll
take back what I just said about it’s being too far
fetched. Is there any reason to suppose that these
supreme wizards might not even be capable of
that? At this very moment radium is undergoing
disintegration into other elements. Man has
never been able either to hasten or to retard that
process, or to effect it in the case of other ele-
ments, — ^but does that mean that he never can
in the future? I shall be surprised at nothing,
— even if man finds it possible to change you and
me into other atoms at will, — or even to destroy
us completely.”
Oblivion!
T his brings my simple narrative up to the pre-
sent time. I have been in my diamond condition
for only a comparatively short period, but it
seems ages already, and I don’t know how I am
ever going to endure the terrifying monotony of
this new existence. The ambitious remarks of
AN ATOMIC ADVENTURE
79
CX-7 have become empty platitudes. They bore
me. Having assumed an attitude diametrically
opposed to his original belief in the permanence
of our diamond state, he is supremely confident
of ultimate change. His very insistence is becom-
ing annoying. Only a little while ago he con-
fided to me with trembling excitement that things
are going to happen very shortly. He whispered
that the human scientists, — ^the same ones who
had caused us to be transformed into diamond,
— are engaging in the preparation of an elaborate
experiment with us. The nature of this work is
very mysterious, but it is something radically
new, — something that has never been attempted
before.
How CX-7 can tell what these scientists are up
to I have no means of knowing. Many times be-
fore he has exhibited that rare intuition. — or
whatever faculty you may call it, — ^which has en-
abled him to project his consciousness out of the
realm of atomic existence and ascertain the trend
of events in other spheres. To only a negligible
degree have I ever possessed that ability. But
CX-7 it seems can tell instantly what these learn-
ed men are planning, read their thoughts, fathom
their designs and anticipate their inventions.
Nevertheless, I am unable, somehow, to place
much stock in these new experiments. CX-7 in-
sists that they are of momentous import, but I
cannot bring myself around to any optimistic
thoughts about my own future. What’s the use?
Let them experiment with me! Nothing matters
anyhow ! Monotony, — ^routine, — boredom, — ever-
lasting sameness. —
Hello! — What’s that? — Rumblings — distant
rumblings, — and getting louder each moment. A
mysterious shudder runs through me, — I feel my-
self impelled to vibrate more rapidly, and I see
that my neighbors are trembling in a queer man-
ner. The far-away rumblings are becoming more
pronounced, — ^they have an awful, sinister tone
that seems to tell of impending doom. A convul-
sive wave of frenzied oscillation courses through
our ranks and then dies away in the distant
reaches of our domain.
What is that sudden shaft of searing yellowish
luminescence? It plunges through our midst
with blinding brilliance that pales the rays of sun-
light pouring into us from all sides. It is gone
now, but it has left a wake of quivering atoms
behind. There goes another one, tearing through
our atomic ranks with reckless abandon. A third,
— a fourth, — these devastating beams are hurtling
along in ever-increasing numbers.
Crash! One of these murderous shafts has just
struck an electron of my neighbor at my right.
It was a glancing blow, but the electron is reeling
dizzily in its orbit, and the entire atom is trem-
bling violently through his entire structure. An
increasing number of the surrounding atoms are
suffering more or less direct hits. Luckily, I am
so far unscathed, although I cannot overcome that
contagious agitation that has taken possession of
me.
CX-7 is saying something to me. The din of
these crashing messengers of destruction is over-
whelming, — ^I cannot understand what my friend
is trying to tell me. He is extremely excited, —
so am I, — so is everyone of us throughout the en-
tire diamond structure. “Rays — scientists — ^trans-
mutation — destruction — ” I cannot make out any
sensible message in this incoherent babble.
Electrons! — hundreds of them! — plunging
crazily in all directions ! What is the meaning of
this? They are unattached — free — flying through
space in straight lines, — not in uniform circular
orbits !
Ah! Now I see it! I see it! — They are being
torn away from our carbon atoms! Transmuta-
tion at last! — just like the radium atoms I watch-
ed many ages ago. But no! — ^this is something
more ! — Horror of horrors ! — My fellow atoms are
being disrupted, — broken up! This is not trans-
mutation! — this is no mere change into new ele-
ments !
Oh — Father of Atoms ! — I’m being torn asunder !
— Electrons ! — my electrons — don’t go ! — stay with
me! Oh they are being ripped out of my very
structure! One — two — five of them have torn
from my side ! CX-7 — CX-7 ! Where are you ? —
look — your electrons too — leaving you — gone! —
See — your nucleusl — it’s breaking up — exploding
— flying protons! — flying electrons! — Oh CX-7!
what has become of you !— there’s nothing left of
you ! — you’re gone — ^blotted out — destroyed !
And I ! — Oh the pain ! — the anguish ! — will this
ever end? — Rip! — crash! Oh — my nucleus — my
protons — Save me, oh merciful Creator ! I’m slip-
ping, I’m dying — darkness — oblivion !”
* * * *
The Learned Scientist peered through his in-
strument, and then raised his head with a sigh.
He turned a knob on the box-like mechanism be-
fore him. The intense, yellowish beam of light
crackling from a glowing lens that fitted a tiny
aperture faded away into nothingness. With his
almost immobile face betraying the very faintest
suggestion of a smile he turned slowly to a group
of men standing close by the strange instrument.
Awe, wonder, bewilderment was written on their
countenances, — as though they had just witnessed
a supernatural manifestation or the work of a
powerful strange deity.
“You see, my dear professors,” said the Learned
Scientist, suavely, “Even the impossible can be
accomplished. Transmutation of elements is
child’s play compared to what you have just seen.
Those synthetic diamond crystals that you watch-
ed me place on the focal tray of my apparatus are
gone,— disintegrated, — destroyed! My ray has
broken up the carbon atoms into their component
parts. And what have we as a result? Electricity!
So much positive electricity and so much negative
electricity, as shown on these galvanometers be-
fore you.”
THE END.
The Island of Terror
By Ransome Sutton
Rising to a sit-
ting position /
took the bone in
both hands and
struck like light-
ning.
A wing turned Carl’s head — ^the crumpled
wing of a Fantasmas moth. An amateur
collector in Port of Spain, Island of Trini-
dad, had written that this supposedly phantom
species actually haunted an island in one of the
streams of the Orinoco delta, and Carl had com-
missioned him to obtain a specimen at any cost.
Too bad! Carl was always chasing phantoms.
To my chagrin and his unbounded gratification,
however, a real Fantasmas moth finally arrived
in the mails. Poorly packed, he told me over
the telephone, yet somehow one whole wing came
through in almost perfect condition. He wanted
me to rush right up to his bungalow.
“It’ll look better by moonlight,” I procrastin-
ated. “Bring it over this evening.” I had inter-
ests of my own and a dinner engagement. Be-
sides, I felt the time had come to begin throw-
ing cold water upon his moth mania.
Shortly after, dinner he arrived — bareheaded
and in shirtsleeves. A handsome youngster, if I
do say so, with blue eyes and clean-cut features.
He was twenty-six years old, two years younger
than myself, and since the death of our parents,
we had lived apart but kept in daily touch with
each other. Fortunately, we could afford to ride
80
Very few writers possess the ability to combine in a single story a startling scientific idea, a
strange atmosphere and a corking go^ yam. Yet Mr. Sutton has given us all these things in
this story, with which he makes his bow to our readers.
Our author is a prominent writer on scientific matters on the Pacific coast, and he assures us
that the atmosphere that makes this story so thrilling comes from personal experiences of his in out*
of-the-way comers of the globe.
As to his scientific ideas, they are well-known yet the full significance of them has never proper-
ly dawned on us. Since Gregor Mendel, an obscure monk, gave to the world his studies on heredity,
we have learned somewhat the why of individual family and racial characteristics. From his studies
of interbreeding of plants, Mendel found how two living forms interact and he worked out laws to
tell us what sort of physical and mental characteristics we might expect when two species breed.
The whole subject is intensely interesting and with it we can trace the degeneration of such beings
as the Russian dog-man and the loup-garou as well as the production of our greatest geniuses.
our hobby-horses wherever we chose, and we had ly a coward. A shameless confession to put in-
ridden them to California. His bungalow, more to print, and it scares me to do so ; yet I have
like a museum than a home, sprawled across always obliged myself, regardless of conse-
the mouth of a canyon in Altadena, whereas my quences, to do the things I feared to do. As a
so-called “studio” was in Pasadena, within walk- boy I used to rush in where no other boys dared
ing distance of the California Institute of Tech- go, so I acquired a reputation for recklessness,
nology, where I was doing some research work in but it was sham courage. Carl’s courage, how-
Mendelism — a much more important hobby I ever, was sterling stuff. He would laugh at dan-
thought. gers that brought the cold sweat to my brow. I
What I most admired in Carl was not his good could beat him at tennis, yet he always got across
looks but his splendid courage. He feared noth- any sort of dead line first, because he leaped for-
ing. And in my heart I knew that I was natural- ward intuitively, whereas it took time for me to
81
82
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
screw my courage up. The stories of adventure,
through which I thrilled, hardly interested him
at all, for he could see nothing unusual in heroic
behavior. Why should blood brothers be so dif-
ferent? Why should a shuffling sound outside
the door at night shake the pencil in my hand,
when Carl was deaf to such silly sounds?
These questions were running through my
mind while he unwrapped the little black box
wherein, on milkweed cotton, he had placed the
remains of the moth. To one form of fear ap-
parently he was not immune — the fear that his
trembling fingers might injure the specimen.
“Stay where you are,” he said, “until I’m
ready, then turn off the lights. That was one
of your bright ideas, Henry. Moonlight, b’gosh.”
With a pair of forceps, he took the wing to the
open window, held it in the moonlight, tilted it at
varying angles to bring out different reflections.
“Now douse the glim,” he exclaimed, “and tell
me what it’s like.”
“Well, it looks like a fan of golden smoke all
right, but it’s just a wing. A
dead insect’s wing, a bit
crumpled, beautiful enough
in its queemess I suppose.
Listen to me, Carl, there’s
beauty in living things. Don’t
you know ?”
“I know what you’re
thinking,” he broke in cold-
ly. “But if it takes all the
rest of my life and money.
I’m going to have a perfect
specimen. And I might, as
well tell you right now. -i’m
leaving tomorrow for Fan-
tasmas Island.” He threw
the wing out of the window
and held out his hand.
Exasperated, I dropped in-
to a chair and railed at him,
told him the Orinoco delta
reeked with miasmas, raved
about strangler-trees and
murder fishes and jaguars.
“Why should I be afraid
to go where other people go?” he asked in that
daring way of his. “All the same I’m sailing to-
morrow. How about a drink?”
“Of course, of course,” I stammered weakly,
for the moment he mentioned not being afraid,
I realized my objections were the natural reac-
tions of fear. I had fancied myself in his place
and spoken impulsively. To save my face I
agreed that if he valued the moths so highly,
why, the thing to do was to go get them. But it
was hard work to say so, for I had a premonition
that this good-looking brother of mine would
never return from the damnable trip.
Overwhelming Fear
A cablegram from Carl, telling me he had
arrived in Port of Spain, and chartered a
sailing boat to take him over to the Delta, was
followed by silence which seemed more and more
ominous as the weeks went by. I finally went to
his bungalow and in his letter files found the
name of the amateur collector — Charlie Wilkins
— and cabled, but his reply made matters worse.
Fishermen on the Gulf of Paria, it said, saw the
boat cross the bar at the mouth of the Pedemales
River (one of the streams into which the Orinoco
splits before reaching the sea), but it had not
since been sighted.
Two weeks later a frightful cablegram came :
Zambo Sam, master of the boat your brother
chartered, has returned without him. Says he landed
him on Fantasmas Island, which the natives call
Haunted Island, because it’s supposed to be haunted
by ghosts of the pirates that anciently resorted there.
Says your brother was hunting for pirates’ treasure
when 'sumpin whiffed him away.’ That’s all the inform
mation I can get out of the superstitious Zambo. He
will be here a week. Wire instructions.
— Charlie Wilkins.
I was stunned. Carl, either killed, or aban-
doned. A “haunted island I” “Wire instruc-
tions.” What was I to wire? There was just
one message to send and the
words leaped red-hot into my
mind, butl— Go down there
myself? Flounder through
alligator wallows, in furnace
heat, inhaling tropical
fevers? “Sumpin whiifed
him away.” What on earth
could those weird words
mean? An island haunted
by ghosts ! An island of fan-
tasms! Digging for pirates’
treasure! The whole thing
sounded uncanny. Suppose
I went, what good would it
do? Arrangements might
be made through the State
Department for the Amer-
ican Consul to send a search
expedition. A dozen things
might be done — ^from a safe
distance. On the other hand,
strangers could hardly be
expected to follow Carl’s
footsteps into the dangerous
places he would be inclined to explore. It was
up to me ! Even if I did not go farther than Port
of Spain, I could learn the facts at first hand
from Zambo Sam. But he would be leaving in
a week. No chance of seeing him
An airplane, roaring over the city, suggested
a frightful possibility: one might fly there in
time to talk with Zambo Sam — provided the
plane did not dive into the Caribbean Sea. Lind-
bergh flew to Trinidad. Others also. Why
shouldn’t I? God, the facts were bard to face.
Yet I faced them. I took a drink of drugstore
whiskey, locked up and drove to the Glendale
airport for my first flight.
Peeling braver than a lion, although a bit be-
wildered, I came to in the aviation field back of
Port of Spain and bargained with the pilot to
wait until he heard from me. If Zambo Sam
had gone, I meant to explore the delta from the
air. 'Then, calling a cooly carriage, I drove to
the address of Charlie Wilkins, who lived with
THE ISLAND OF TERROR
83
his mother on the edge of town. A disappoint-
ing fellow, with a downy mustache and a cough,
he had learned nothing new. “Sam’s still here,
but he’s going to sail tonight,” he said, and that
was the beat information he had. Despite his
nervousness and apparent indifference, I invited
him at a price to go with me to the delta.
“Over there!” he exclaimed, with more feel-
ing than I supposed he possessed. “Why, no one
comes back from the delta. Ask anybody.
There’s a sand-bar across the mouth of the river,
and Sam’s flat-bottomed boat’s the only one that
can cross it. And Sam’s just a zambo. I told
your brother what people say about the ghosts
and everything. You see, he didn’t come b^ack.”
The best he would do was to go with me down
to the water front and point out Sam’s boat — a
small two-masted schooner, anchored among the
bumboats about a quarter of a mile offshore. It
looked gallant enough in the afternoon sun, its
sails all silver in the slanting light. Telling him
to wait, I took a launch out to the boat.
It had a flat bottom all right and two dirty
sails — ^for the silver had vanished from them —
and on the deck sat a half dozen Zambos, play-
ing some sort of a game with nuts. They were
nearly naked, big brawny fellows, with rings in
their ears and knives in their belts — ^the most
mongrel humans I had ever seen. Being a stu-
dent of Mendelism, I knew that Zambos were the
offspring of renegade negroes and jungle Indians,
two breeds which blend badly, but I ha^ no idea
how far back reversion could carry human be-
ings. The aspect of these fellows was startling ;
they resembled apes more than men. Human
mules! And mules, I remembered, were stub-
born animals.
I asked for “Captain Sam,” and up rose the
throwback de luxe, his knees bent, his flat feet
wide apart, his big mouth open.
“I’m Henry Haveland,” I began as confidently
as possible. “It was my brother you took to Fan-
tasmas Island. What happened to him ? ”
He tried to speak, but simply stuttered, for it
was fear that made the effort. I knew the signs.
In all his stutterings, I could distinguish only a
string of silly words: “Voices . . . sombras . . .
lemures . . . black wings . . . vampires . . . whis-
pers . . . moans . . .” On other subjects, he talked
quite intelligently, but whenever I recurred to
Carl’s disappearance, ten thousand years of sup-
erstition shivered through his brain. Feeling my
own knees weakening, I said, “Sam, I want you
to take me to Fantasmas Island and bring me
back!”
He shook his head violently.
“What’s the matter with you?” I snapped.
Jerking the machete from his belt, he hurled
it the length of the boat and buried the point in a
plank no wider than the space between one’s
eyes. “Me can’t do that to spirits, bass, so talk
no more 'bout island.”
“Where ’re you going from here?”
“Up river by Pednaly, not by island.”
Knowing that Pedemales village, Pednaly as
he called it, was on the east bank of the river
diagonally across from the island ; “Will you take
me there and wait until I return, then bring me
back here?” I shouted at him.
fie turned to the crew and barked at them.
Judging by their manner, the jig was up. But
finally Sam faced about with the proposition that
for eight “hard dollars” a day, “some sow belly
and a sack of brown sugar,” he wouid take me
to Pedemales, remain there as long as I wished,
and bring me back, provided I agreed in the
presence of the port officer not to ask him to
sail near the island. I was also to furnish my
own bed and board, deposit the money with the
port officer to be paid over upon his return, with
or without me, and if by any chance I managed
to get across from Pedemales to the island, he
would not be expected to look for me, nor to wait
longer than ten days. He wanted to sail as soon
as possible in order to cross the sand-bar at high
tide next morning. So it was settled — all but
the ordeal in the office of the port.
The port officer had a good deal to say. “The
Pedernales is a river of death,” he volunteered,
annqyingly. “Whoever goes down never comes
up. Murder fishes, electric eels, sharks, alliga-
tors. Better change your mind, Mr. Haveland,
before it’s too late. That haunted island ! Say,
Sam’s right. A dozen persons have gone over
there since I’ve been in charge of the port to hunt
for buried gold, and none came back. Of course,
your brother ”
“For heaven’s sake, man, get busy,” I inter-
rupted in a way that must have offended him.
Without further warning, he wrote down my
name, address and next of kin, and made a re-
cord of my appearance: five feet eleven inches
tall, blue eyes, light complexion, a slight scar un-
der right eye, dressed in hunting togs, nervous
disposition, and so on.
That business over, I scribbled a note to the
airplane pilot, telling him not to wait any longer,
and sent it by Charlie Wilkins, then purchased
quite a supply of provisions, including the sow
belly and brown sugar, and with Sam’s help got
everything aboard and we sailed just before sun-
set.
And how we loped over the Gulf of Paria!
Like an old Airedale with a bone in its mouth, the
old boat galloped into the night, trailing out a
wake of phosphorescence which glimmered
brighter than the wake of the tropic moon. Save
for the flapping of the patched sails, the swishing
of the waves, the whining of the wind, the rum-
bling in the clouds and the crooning of the Zam-
bos, black silence reigned, and a sleeping pow-
der put me to sleep.
CHAPTER II.
La Blanca
S AM’S toe in my ribs awoke me. Thanks to
the powder I had slept away the night and
the forenoon also.
“Pednaly town,” Sam was saying.
It was a more primitive place than I expected.
Quite pitiably picturesque. A row of mud huts
roofed with palm leaves, the clay-covered river
in front and a solid wall of jungle behind — ^that
84
BONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
was Pedernales, the only human habitation on
the entire delta. Pointing over his shoulder
with his thumb ; “F-F-Fantasmas”, stuttered Sam.
Not more than two miles away, it looked like a
great floating mass of greenhouse vegetation.
Around feathery fronds, which flickered like
flames in the sun, bizarre birds swirled. A
queer place indeed for one of Carl’s accomplish-
ments to look for moths.
Sam moored to the mangroves and I went
ashore. What a relief to learn that the little
old mummy who stood in the doorway of the
hut over a Venezuelan rag-of-a-flag fluttered,
spoke a little English. A mestizo he proved to
be, in whose veins still flowed the blood of the
buccaneers that anciently frequented Fantasmas
Island. Of course the Spanish blood had been
mostly bred out; but he had still his pedigree
and, therefore, his pride and petty pomposities.
We bowed and scraped. Then, sipping Jamaica
hot under the lean-to where we sat on stools with
the flask between us, although the heat had not
seemed so oppressive until he spoke of the loup-
garou.
In a confidential tone he went on: “Call it
what you wish, a vampire’s a ghost with a baby’s
body and a black angel’s wings. It flies by night
and sucks warm blood. My old eyes have seen
vampires, too,” and he made a sign of the cross.
“It would be murder to give you a dugout. Even
if I should do so, where would you find pad-
dlers?”
Pretending a courage I did not feel : “What’s
the matter with paddling my own canoe?” I
asked.
Waving his small hands toward the river:
“Mira !” he exclaimed. “The Rio Pedernales is
always that way, senor. Logs, stumps, drift-
wood on angry tides. And under the tides —
sharks, electric eels, blood-sucking fishes. It
FANTASMAS
ISLAND
^W6ST)
PE0ERWALE5
VILLAGE
ENLARGED SECTION
OF RIO PEDERNALES
THE ORINOCO
(SOUTH) DELTA
PEDERNALES
VILLAGE
(EAST)
A map of the district where Carl disappeared. On the right upper Is shown the Port of Spain and the Gulf of Parla
which one crosses to get to the Rio Pedernales. On the left is an enlarged section of the river.
rum from a flask which I produced, we got down
to business. What I wanted was a dugout. I
had seen a whole fleet tied among the mangroves
as I came ashore. To my surprise, this hospi-
table host, who had already placed the best hut
in town at my disposal, was shaking his head
and acting almost as queerly as Sam had behaved.
At length, however, the rum loosened his tongue,
and he poured out a tale while almost took my
breath away. “Before my father died,” he de-
clared with evident sincerity, “I paddled close to
Fantasmas and saw a loup-garou. Si, senor, a
loup-garou ! The head of a man on the body of
a beast. Head hairy all over, except the eyes
and nose. And it’s the leader of a pack of wer-
wolves. Si, senor, werwolves. You believe me
not? It is truth. We who live here know.
Know you what a vampire is?”
“A b-a-t, of course,” I stammered, mopping
the perspiration from my face. It was sizzling
takes two paddles in the hands of strong river-
men to cross Pedernales.”
Until that moment I had hardly given the river
a glance. I recalled having read that the tides
ran high on the delta, and here they were. Be-
sides running high, they were littered with the
debris of a vast watershed. A wild, clay-color-
ed river, which seemed to be running inland, as
it literally does when the tides are high. But
yonder lay the island, shimmering in the mist, so
plainly in view. Here were dugouts and pad-
dlers. Was I to be balked after all? “Jefe, my
brother may still be alive. I’d be a skunk to
turn back now. What do you suggest?”
“Your Zambos? Of course they will not take
you. Ah, senor, Fantasmas is taboo.”
I did some pooh-poohing, but it did not phase
him. One might as well try to pooh-pooh saints
out of the Christian religion. In the very core
of his heart, this mestizo headman believed the
THE ISLAND OF TERROR
85
island was haunted by evil spirits. No use argu-
ing. I would have to wait awhile, get better ac-
quainted. I would spend the night here, calm
down and trust to circumstances. He arose and
opened the door of his hut, beside which we had
been sitting, and said, “Bring your things ashore,
my friend. This casa is yours.”
On the way to the boat, I was amazed to see
a young white woman among the squaws on the
river bank. Having heard of white Indians, I
paused for a second look. Blonde hair, brown
eyes, dark lashes, calved legs, tanned skin, per-
fect teeth!! Had a yacht been wrecked and
this girl saved? All the afternoon I wondered
about her, and that evening, while the jefe and
his corpulent spouse — she was three times his
size, low-browed and coffee-colored — were en-
joying my canned stuff, I asked about the white
girl. “Girl” sounded more modest than young
woman, and I did not wish to appear specially
interested.
“My granddaughter, senor. Her father was
my son, her mother a spotted mestiza\ both died
when she was very young.”
“Her mother — spotted?”
“Si, senor, white spots on her brown body. La
Manchanda we called her. The nina we named
La Blanca, because she was all white.” She
spoke to his spouse, whereupon that mountain of
flesh went to the door and shouted, “La Blanca !”
With hands on hips and head thrown back. La
Blanca came boldly and looked me level in the
eyes. Despite the jefe’s statement, I still believed
there was not one drop of Indian blood in her
veins. Nor were there any spots on her — she
was white. A short skirt covered her hips and
legs, but she wore nothing else except a string of
beads and the band which held her hair back;
so I could see that her body was no darker than
that of an average Caucasian brunette. A boyish
body, only rounder and finer muscled, and her
feet were beautifully arched.
“No speaks English,” said the jefe, whose ex-
istence I had momentarily forgotten, “though
she understands a little. In one month La Blan-
ca will be married. Wish you to see her novio ? ”
“Later on, perhaps,” and I motioned La Blanca
to help herself to the provisions. Without the
least embarrassment she did so — ^tasted this and
that, made faces at the sardines but licked the
honey I poured on a plate, acting perfectly at
ease in my presence. To show her appreciation
of the can of honey, which I thrust into her hands,
she took me on a sight-seeing tour of the town.
The Jungle Terror
T here were twelve huts, all facing the river.
A huge shed, in the middle of the row,
served as a market, meeting place and social cen-
ter combined. In it clay vessels, hammocks, fish,
baskets and jungle products were displayed. But
La Blanca herself was a thousand times more in-
teresting than anything she pointed out. All the
other females shrank bashfully in the back-
ground, whereas she swaggered by my side. And,
although she spoke no English, she plainly under-
stood my questions and answered, cleverly with
gestures and shrugs.
At the end of the row of huts, where three
mop-headed men were penning up a pack of orn-
ery dogs, she made a motion which caused my
flesh to creep. The motion meant that the dogs
were being caged to keep the jaguars from car-
rying them off at night. After going the
rounds, she escorted me back to the hut and
showed me how to bar the door. As to the one
window, it was only a V-shaped slit in the thick
wall — ^hardly wide enough to admit a man-eater.
Meanwhile, I had been making plans. And as
soon as she left the hut, I went aboard the boat
and instructed Sam to go among the mestizos
and promise two bottles of rum to any two pad-
dlers who would take me over to the island early
next morning. Instead of protesting, he grinned
like an ape. Did he think there would be no tak-
ers, or was he willing to send mestizos to the
ghosts? Fancying the rum would do the trick, I
gathered together such things as one might need
for a day on an uninhabited island, took them to
my hut, shaved, washed, brushed up, and went
to dine with the Jefe.
Around a hand-made table we sat down on
benches; the Jefe, two squaws, six papooses, La
Blanca and myself. Besides the jug of wine,
which I contributed, the meal consisted of cas-
sava cakes, a savory stew and a salad served on
banana leaves. Hurrying through the dinner, I
took the Jefe by the arm and led him into my
hut.
“Now look here, my friend,” I began nervous-
ly, “I think you’ve been spoofing me — ^about your
granddaughter and ghosts. You’re a gentleman,
with white blood in your veins, and you speak my
language. I’m your guest. I have eaten your
cakes and you have sipped my wine. I want
you to tell me the truth about La Blanca.”
Amazement in his manner : “Why, my friend,
I’ve told you the truth. Her father was my son,
her mother La Manchanda. That is all.”
Was he lying or had someone perpetrated a
hoax on him ? In either event, there was no use
pressing him farther. “Pardon me for doubting
you,” I replied. “It’s a strange case, but there
seem to be many mysteries on the delta. Now,
about a dugout. I must have one, Jefe.”
Like all men who have backgrounds and an-
cestors and memories, the Jefe had pride, and
to his pride I had appealed. But with pride came
pain, then weakness. Shaking his head: “Nun-
ca, nunca!” he murmured. “If I sent paddlers
with you, they would come back without you. It
is impossible. Fantasmas is taboo,” and with all
the dignity of a hidalgo, this shadow of the Spain
that used-to-be gathered up the shawl, which sag-
ged from his shoulder, bade me good night and
backed out of the hut.
For awhile I stood in the doorway — listening.
The sun had set and the jungle was waking.
Strange sounds were in the air — whines, yelps,
howls and growls. Until now I had not felt
much fear pf the jungle. It was right behind
the huts, but by day it had been strangely silent.
Now, with the darkness deepening, it seemed tc
be seething with — ^no telling what. Even a1
86
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
home, I remembered startling at the sound of
rustling leaves, but these noises! In front of the
huts an old squaw was putting out the torches, so
I closed and barred the door, laid out a revolver,
dropped into the hammock and listened. The air
was hot and humid, and a feeling of nausea kept
me awake. I knew 1 was safe, even in this un-
caged menagerie, yet at every yowl my heart
skipped a beat. Yowling! There was yowling
all around and these yowlers were jaguars.
Worse still, an unearthly chorus suddenly shiv-
ered through the air, rising higher and higher
until the whole jungle throbbed with sound, then
it dropped down slowly, an octave at a time, and
finally ended as a sort of moan. Having heard
about howling monkeys, I realized they were
howling their night song, but I never imagined it
could be so outlandish. Time and again the un-
canny rhythm rose into a roar and moaned off
into silence — always from different directions,
for the howlers were always trooping.
To quiet my nerves, I went to the window and
looked out. The river also was roaring, but the
moon had not come up and I could see nothing
but black mist. The dogs, however, were si-
lent — scared stiff perhaps. As to the haunted is-
land — So long as I had done my level best — ^But
had I exhausted every possibility? There was
Sam ; despite my promise, I might bully him into
sailing me over. La Blanca — No use trying to
think coherently on any subject under such crazy
conditions. I took a light sleeping powder,
washed it down with a gulp of rum, stretched out
upon the hammock without undressing, and fin-
ally dozed off.
Toward morning a stick, which someone thrust
through the window, brought me to my feet.
Holding my breath, I tip-toed to the window. The
night seemed serenely beautiful now, for the
moon had risen and quieted the jungle. La
Blanca! It was she!
“Sh-sh!” she was saying, with a finger to her
lips.
I opened the door. She motioned me to gath-
er up my belongings, and loaded like a pack
horse I followed her to a cove where the dugouts
were moored. Two shadows stood among the
mangroves: Zambo Sam and a long-armed, low-
browed mestizo.
“Him*S Juan,” Sam grinned. “La Blanca’s
promised. Him and her paddle you to island,”
and he held up an empty bottle which had over-
come Juan’s fear of ghosts.
It seemed like a dream, yet here we were —
shoving off! Now the importance of two pad-
dlers became apparent. For the dugout, being
simply a dead tree’s shell, careened crazily and
took water at every turn. Making matters
worse, about the time we reached the middle of
the stream Juan began to act queerly. Instead
of stroking steadily, he skipped strokes. Strok-
ing intermittently on one side until prompted by
La Blanca, he would lurch heavily to the oppo-
site side and repeat the performance. When at
length the terrible truth dawned upon me, fear
in its most sickening form took possession of me.
He was drunk. Passing out and taking two
white people with him. All my life I had cringed
at the feel of fishes. Now, to be dumped into a
river from which no one emerges; to be devoured
piecemeal by murder fi.shes, when right yonder
lay the island, with the rising sun shimmering on
green leaves — At that moment fear made me
more dangerous than Juan. For I was foolish
enough to think it possible to heave a drunken
mestizo to the sharks without overturning the
dugout. La Blanca fortunately rose first. One
hand upon my shoulder she poised her paddle in
air, shouted “Huy” at the top of her voice, and
as Juan swayed from one side to the other she
struck — and down he settled in the bottom of the
dugout. I caught the paddle which fell from
his hands, but La Blanca motioned me to bail
water with my hat, and somehow she managed
to paddle into the lee of the island.
CHAPTER V
Smoke!
A n impenetrable hedge of mangroves sur-
rounded the island, save at the extreme
north end, where the tides had swept back the
vegetation from a beautiful little crescent-shaped
beach. Back of the beach rose a barricade of
driftwood, brought down the river and piled up
by the tides, and behind the barricade the jungle
loomed. A beautiful Eden — ^in morning splen-
dor; swaying fronds, flaming wings, chattering
monkeys, flowering vines, fragrant odors, dew-
covered webs shimmering everywhere. Long-
legged wading birds made way for the dugout
and we stepped ashore on Fantasmas Island.
Despite the beauty of the place, its prehistoric as-
pect was a bit appalling. It was as if we had
drifted back in time and space to an Eocene jun-
gle, for this island had plainly come down the
centuries unchanged, forgotten by evolution.
Flowerless trees covered with blooms. But the
blossoms did not belong to the trees; they be-
longed to the vines, or lianas. It was borrowed
beauty. The greenhouse flora, sighing in the
breeze and shimmering in the sun, was literally
as antique as the alligators, lying beneath the
mangroves with their snouts on the land. In such
an antediluvian scene, human beings would na-
turally feel out of place. Even the breach seemed
to undulate under my feet, probably because I
had not yet completely recovered my land-legs.
Nowhere, however, was there a single thing to
fear, and what a relief that was — after our close
call on the river.
We tied the dugout to a bush and La Blanca
proceeded to bathe Juan’s head. Then she ran
here and there, stopping suddenly to examine
some particular bush or weed. Was she botan-
izing? Finding the weed she wanted, she
squeezed its juice over Juan’s bump, showing
more solicitude than seemed necessary under the
circumstances. I removed the things from the
dugout, placed them in the sun to dry, and re-
connoitered.
There were no human tracks in the sand. It
was evident, however, that the denizens used the
beach as a playground, or perhaps a fighting
ground, for the signs of paws and claws appeared
THE ISLAND OF TERROR
87
eve^where. There were paths across the sand,
which looked as if a carcass had been dragged
over the surface, but it seemed more likely that
the flat furrows had been made by prowling al-
ligators.
Climbing to the top of the barricade, I exper-
ienced a happy thrill. For through the foliage I
caught a glimmering of smoke. Although the
jungle had commenced to steam, this thin spiral,
curling upward from a bush-covered mound
about a stone’s throw from the barricade, could
not be steam, or mist. It could not be anything
but smoke. A tiny cloud hovered among the
tree-tops, whose branches overhung the mound.
Smoke! So Carl must still be alive? I whistled,
shouted, listened.
hanging hair? No, the hair on those heads
was nothing but roots — ^the roots of epiphs^tes,
growing on limbs, which gathered their nourish-
ment from the dank air. Feeling the chills
crawling up my back, I beckoned to La Blanca.
Whiter faced than ever, she climbed the bar-
ricade, and confirmed my opinion as to the
smoke. At least she nodded her head. To my
surprise she signified a willingness to go with me
to the mound. And it was she that led the way
— on hands and knees. So dense was the vege-
tation that we had to crawl, regardless of snakes.
At the end of the crawl, we found ourselves on
the top of the mound — staring into the tiny crater
of a mud volcano. It was spitting bubbles of
liquid asphalt and emitting little puffs of smoke.
What a let-down! A laughing matter. We
had crawled through a tangle of thorny vines,
expecting to find a smoldering campfire, and
here was this. The next moment we were bend-
ing over a track at which we did not smile. A
frightful footprint, hauntingly human yet mon-
strous, for only the ball of the foot and two large
toes had made an impression in the moist soil.
A zig-zag series of similar tracks extended down
the moundside, and along with them were others
made by big knuckled fists. No use blinking the
facts — ^these footprints and handprints were posi-
tively bizarre. It was as if an urang-utan had
waddled down the mound, yet I well knew no
anthropoid apes inhabited the delta.
Out of the Hole!
E xpressing my sil-
ly thoughts: “Lou'
groo !’’ whispered La
Blanca. She insisted
upon returning at once
to the beach, and I
made no effort to re-
strain her. Why should
I? Courage did not
oblige a man to take up
the trail of the beast, no
difference how man-
like its tracks might be.
Back on the beach, how-
ever, I felt rather fool-
ish. I could not get
those outlandish foot-
prints out of my mind.
They were tangible evi-
dence that something,
which came close to the
Jefe’s description of the
loup-garou, was at
large on the island. And
with it at large, one had
better be on guard. I
tried waking Juan, but
he remained dead to
the world. The bump
on his head did not mat-
ter ; he was just sleeping
off his rum. What did
matter was that Thing,
yet for manhood’s sake, I bad to pretend to be
unconcerned, on my own account as well as La
Blanca’s.
Not for worlds, after my sit-still-and-do-noth-
ing behavior in the dugout, would I have her
suspect my mortifying trepidation. I wanted to
show her, as well as to make myself believe, that
white men were ready to face anything. No use
walking the beach, however, waiting for some-
thing to turn up. The day would not last for-
ever, and I must find out what had happened to
Carl. According to Zambo Sam, he was dig-
ging for pirates’ treasure, when “sumpin whiffed
him away.’’ But, if the ruins of a buccaneers’
abode existed within this impenetrable jungle.
No response. Just
jungle silence, accen-
tuated by murmurings
of insects, the sighing of
the wind, queer creak-
ings and queerer twit;-
terings. Cupping ray
hands, I yelled: “Carl!
Carl! Where are you?”
The titterings now
sounded louder, more
uncanny, like the sub-
dued gigglingsone hears
when visiting an insane
asylum. These titter-
ings were not continu-
ous ; they would rise
and fall, and break out
again apparently from
another direction. It
was as difficult to locate
the source as to locate a
cricket by its song. Be-
cause of the human note
in the sound, an absurd
question leaped into my
mind : could Carl have
lost his reason? Save!
for the gentle swaying
of fronds, nothing seem-
ed to be moving, yet the
thing from whose throat
those titterings came
must surely be moving. Actual picture of Adrian Jeftlchjew— the Russian "Dog: Man.”
L/OUld the sounds come This is from Luirs Organic Evolution. He le an example of a real
from those heads * degenerate state.
88
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
how was it to be located? One could not walk
along the water's edge because of the man-
groves. Standing on stilt-like roots, the man-
groves extended from the jungle wall into deep
water, and only God knew what caused the
black waters to seethe and swirl among the stilts.
As if suspecting my thoughts, La Blanca
climbed the barricade, sprang into a tree and
wormed her way through the vines to the top.
Then, after looking around, she stared awhile in-
tently in a southeasterly direction, and called to
me. Climbing more clumsily, I finally emerged
through the vine-covered canopy, and described
in the leafy distance what looked like the ruins of
an ancient chimney — so mutely reminiscent of
buccaneers. It would be there that Carl was
digging. “Are you game?” I asked, and La
Blanca not only nodded her high-held head, but
again led the way.
The distance was not more than two or three
hundred yards, yet it took nearly an hour by my
watch for us to crawl through the barbed wire
entanglements on that stretch of “no man’s land.”
It would have taken longer if La Blanca had not
found a furrow made by alligators through the
thickest and thorniest vegetation. Reaching the
ruins at len^h, it was abvious that they had been
recently visited, because on one side the vines
had been torn loose, revealing adobe bricks. The
visitor had evidently wondered, just as I was
wondering whether this pile of foliage might not
be another mound. On the other hand, the
vines might have been tom from the bricks by
the Jefe's loup-garou. In all my calculations
the creature that made the man-like tracks now
had a place. Too big a place. I was constantly
on the lookout for the Thing itself. It might have
chosen these ruins for a lair.
“La Blanca,” I called. She had rummaged
around to the other side of the tower. “La Blan-
ca!” No answer. Just seething silence. Not
a titter anywhere.
Around the tower I tore through the vines,
yelling at the top of my voice. Whiffed away.
My God ! Right where Carl had vanished. “La
Blanca !”
This time there was an answer — a peal of
laughter from the tree under which I was stand-
ing. I whirled round and beheld — her! She
was pointing toward a pile of debris, which had
been shoveled from a floor between two crum-
bled walls, to the eastward of the tower. The
joy of seeing her, sitting alive on the limb, over-
came the surprise that pile of hand-handled deb-
ris would have otherwise inspired, so I simply
shook my fist at her and floundered through the
damnable vines. Not even the pick and shovel,-
which lay beside the diggings, brought me back
to earth completely. The rains had coated the
tools with rust, but they were plainly quite new,
for the Port of Spain labels remained in place.
Carl’s tools! Right here they had fallen from
his hands. All this I realized, yet I had hardly
recovered from the fright she gave me. What
if she had been whiffed away? But she was
safe so long as she sat on the limb.
An upraised slab of rotting concrete on the
opposite side of the pile of debris made me for-
get La Blanca. It had been pried up and stood
edgewise. The size of it! A sort of trapdoor.
Obviously this trapdoor in the floor opened into
a cellar, or possibly a treasure vault. A naus-
eating smell emanated from the square hole and
kept me from looking directly into it. At a slant,
however, the subterranean chamber appeared as
dark as midnight. For the foliage shaded the
hole, and there was' evidently no other opening
through which even dim light could reach the
stinking interior. Holding my nose, I poked
down into the gloom with the shovel, then La
Blanca screamed. She screamed just in time to
save me from a huge hissing head which boomed
out of the hole. An anaconda! That much I
realized the moment the gleam of its eyes met
mine, and I caught the gleam just as La Blanca
screamed. It was the scream, however, and not
the gleam that made me leap sideways ; for there
was a fascinating power in those evil eyes, which
would have held me an instant too long, if she
had not screamed. Having leaped, I looked —
saw the horrible head settle back into the hole —
and turned toward La Blanca. My God! I
would show her how grateful I was to her for
keeping watch. In some way, I would show her.
She was not there ! On the limb, where she had
been sitting, there was nothing but a few shreds
from her skirt. Under the limb, however, I found
her, lying unconscious on the ground. Had she
fainted and fallen? Naturally, what woman
would not? I picked her up as tenderly as pos-
sible, carried her to a wild lily pool and dashed
her white face with water. But, instead of recov-
ering calmly, she awoke in a frenzy of fear. The
marks on her shoulders had been scratched, I
supposed, by the bark on the limb as she fell,
but she quickly convinced me they had been made
by the claws of a beast, which her trembling
hands pictured in frightful proportions.
The Werwolves
O NLY one shoulder was marked — ^four black
and blue lines on one side, one line on the
other — as if a hand had closed over the should-
der. Certainly the scratches looked more like
nail-marks than claw-marks. The thing! its
purpose had been to carry her away, but her
frantic efforts had broken the grip. If it had
seized her by the hair, or throat, her struggles
would have been vain. No human hand, how-
ever, could have clung to a bare shoulder, es-
pecially a hand reaching down through the foli-
age. At any rate. La Blanca was still safe. And
my mission was accomplished. Poor Carl! No
one had been present to scream when the ana-
conda struck at him. A horrible death. Snapped
up and dragged down that loathsome hole, then
swallowed slowly alive! Yet the fate La Blanca
had so narrowly escaped seemed even more
hideous.
“Come bn,” I said, and we crawled back to that
blessed little beach.
After washing our hands and faces. La Blanca
opened my pack of provisions and I walked the
beach, wondering whether my mission was really
accomplished or not. When Carl pried up the
THE ISLAND OF, TERROR
89
slab the anaconda could not have been in the
cellar, I reasoned, for there was no way in which
a serpent as big around as a man’s body could
have entered. The anaconda had obviously se-
lected the cellar as its lair since the opening of
the trapdoor. So I was back at the starting point.
It was afternoon and I had learned nothing
definite. Should I give up, return to Pedernales
and sail for home? Every craven nerve in my
body wanted to leave at once, and I knew why.
I was afraid to remain. Yet if I should cross over
with La Blanca and Juan, there would be no pos-
sible way for me to get back to the island. Juan’s
sore head. La Blanca’s frightful experience, on
top of the fact that I had violated the Jefe’s hos-
pitality, would harden the old headman’s heart.
So, if I were to do any more investigating, I must
remain overnight and take chances on La Blanca,
or Sam, coming over tomorrow to take me off. A
terrible alternative. In a thick-walled Peder-
nales hut, I had heard the jungle roar at night,
and those horrible howls still rang like deathbells
in my ears. Here, there would be no hut, no one
to call to, no protection whatever. A sickening
situation, yet it had to be faced — by a coward
who wanted to be brave.
Like gypsies we lunched, although I was not
in a picnicking mood. La Blanca, however, had
completely recovered her composure. Right af-
ter the lunch, she assumed, we would be paddling
for Pedernales. If she liked the stuff in the cans,
she bolted it, otherwise spat it out. A wonder-
woman physically, but as unconventional as a
child. Plucking a hair from my head, she
matched it with one of hers, and showed me that
they were two of a kind. Then, because I would
not let her lick the scratches on my arms and
hands, she pretended to pout until I finally per-
mitted her to wipe the perspiration from my
forehead. To tell the truth, she cooled my face
with what was left of the white wine in her tin-
cup. Suddenly dropping the towel, she threw
her arms around my nec^, wailing: “Werwolves!
Werwolves!”
There they were, squatted on their tails in a
semi-circle not more than a hundred yards away,
grimly watching us. Nineteen all told. High in
the shoulders, low in the hind-quarters, russet
colored, grim and gaunt, they were indeed as
werwolfish as it would be possible for canines to
become. Thanks to my Mendelian studies, how-
ever, I knew at a glance that they were just de-
generate dogs. The slave-hunting bloodhounds
brought over by the buccaneers had gone wild
with jungle canines, and these ferocious ferals
were the descendants. Throwback hounds. No
doubt about it.
Back down the ladder of dog evolution, these
creatures had descended to the level where jack-
als, dholes, dingos, pariahs, wolves and wild dogs
were brothers — just as wheat on abandoned
farms reverts to the grotesque grasses from which
wheat evolved. Ferocious naturally, for here in
the haunts of dog-eating alligators and pythons,
they had held their own so far as numbers were
concerned, but paid in terms of reversion. How
had they kept alive for two centuries? Pack or-
ganization and pack patriotism no doubt. De-
spite their savage aspect, however, they showed
no inclination to attack us. Why? Were old in-
stincts stirring in the backs of their wild brains?
Were they sub-consciously remembering their
masters? In no other way could I account for
their behavior. Staring at us as intently as we
stared at them, now and then they would raise
their noses and yawn, but not one bark came out.
That yawning gesture seemed to be nothing more
than an inherited habit — canine homage to her-
edity, like the turning round habit of domestic
dogs before lying down — ^for obviously these
throwbacks were dumb. Nineteen dumb dogs,
staring at the kind of creatures that still lived in
their dreams.
La Blanca regarded them with fascinated ter-
ror. Yet when I stepped forward, she went with
me, and laughed to see the dogs back into the
bushes. When we retreated they crouched for-
ward, and retreated again every time we ad-
vanced. It was like a game, but now I saw with
alarm there was a jaguar looking on.
The Battle !n the Brake
O RDINARILY, jaguars slept by day. But this
was no ordinary occasion. The reminiscent
smell of human beings must have disarranged
feline as well as canine psychology; for, at a
greater distance, the jaguar was behaving just as
strangely as the dogs. In a less friendly way, it
stalked out upon the long horn of the crescent
beach, stopping occasionally to glare at the dogs
and at us. A beautiful beast : lips, throat, breast
and belly snow white with black spots; head,
back and sides, a rich tan with black rosettes.
Certainly something had turned the head of this
terror of the trees, otherwise it would not have
left the jungle to prowl along that treeless lick
of land. Something must have made it forget its
cunning. For what chance had it against the
pack? Of course it could shake the life out of
one dog as easily as a house-cat shakes the life
out of a mouse, but how did it dare defy the
power of the pack?
I glanced at La Blanca. She was standing be-
side me rigidly erect, her hand on my arm. Be-
neath her breath she muttered something in her
tongue and nodded. She seemed to be expect-
ant, rather than afraid. At that moment, how-
ever, a fiendish peal of laughter resounded from
the bushes back of the dogs, and I felt her fingers
tighten on my arm.
That hyena laughter was plainly a call to the
pack. As if galvanized, the dogs whirled round,
bounded into the bushes, and reappeared on the
trail of the jaguar, led by a creature which looked
like a man in the skin of a gorilla. Like a gor-
illa, it galumphed along, a club in one hand, the
other hand now and then touching the ground.
The line passed rapidly between us and the sun,
which was dazzling bright, and I fancied the
glare must have exaggerated the grotesqueness
of the thing. So fascinated was I that I hardly
gave the jaguar a thought until it turned. It
turned, glared toward the pack for just one
moment, then raced in a series of long leaps, not
out toward the end of the horn, but toward the
90
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
bend, which brought it in our direction. Before
it reached the bend, the dogs had it surrounded.
It backed into a bamboo brake and stood at bay.
Then around the circle of dogs the ape-like leader
loped, continuing that lunatic laughter. He was
obviously having his fun in advance of the fight-
ing.
The jaguar made one further attempt to es-
cape. It sprang from the brake, bowled dogs to
right and left, and made the mistake of seizing
one by the backbone, for that dog twisted round
and fastened its fangs in the jaguar’s throat.
Shaking it loose, the jaguar leaped back into the
brake and whirled again at bay. Now the
leader’s laughter changed to a hoarse staccato,
which was plainly a call to the kill, for the
younger dogs fell back and the grimmer ones
closed in.
The affray was nearly noiseless. No barking,
or yelping, on the part of the pack — ^just guttural
growls and dogged determination. No whinings,
or calls for help, from the bamboo brake — just
hissings and out-flashings of paws, which
sprawled one of the dogs on the ground, but the
death of that dog made no impression on the
pack, nor on the jumping-jack leader. The leader
laughed louder arid the melee began. When it
ended the jaguar and two dogs were dead, but
what did the leader care for the loss of two
dogs? After pounding the skull of the dead cat
awhile with his club, he galumphed back into
the jungle alone, while the dogs came forward
to stare at us and lick their wounds.
To me, the finest thing in all the fight was not
the display of jungle fury, not the slavering
mouths and gleaming teeth, not even the jaguar’s
desperate defense, but the devil-may-care cour-
age with which these dumb dogs did their duty.
Whether they feared the jaguar or not, they
faced it and fought, regardless of consequences
to themselves. God knows, I needed just such an
example to stiffen my backbone. For the time
had come to decide whether to return to Peder-
nales, or to remain overnight.
As to the loup-garou, I had formed an opinion
which took some of the terror out of the idea of
spending the night on the island. Instead of be-
ing a supernatural monster, “with the head of a
man on the body of a beast,” he was simply an
atavistic man. A gorilla-like throwback, in whom
reversion had done its worst. A much more ex-
treme throwback indeed than Zambo Sam, or
even the Russian Dog-man, or the Porcupine man,
pictured in books on Mendelism. Because of his
frightful physiognomy, some jungle judge had
probably banished him to this forsaken island,
where he had lost his reason — ^if he ever had any
reason. At any rate, he was flesh and blood.
A bullet in his hairy head would put an end to
his lunatic laughter, if he became too much of a
menace. A powerful lunatic, running at large,
he might be responsible for Carl’s disappear-
ance. One would have to be on watch every
moment.
For fear I might change my mind, I took La
Blanca by the hand and earnestly tried to tell
her my decision. She and Juan must leave at
once to reach Pedemales before dark. Did she
understand? We walked down to the dugout,
finding Juan half awake. Dazed and irritable,
he fancied I had whacked him on the head. To
further the fancy, I picked up a paddle and
threatened to use it again unless he left at once.
It took a lot of loud talking and gesticulating,
but I finally made them both understand. As
white as the lilies in the pool beside the anacon-
da’s lair. La Blanca stared at me, sorrowfully and
admiringly. She seemed to think I was doing
something brave beyond words. When she com-
prehended that I wished her and Juan, or Sam,
or anybody, to come across for me tomorrow
morning, she turned abruptly, stepped into the
dugout, thrust a paddle in Juan’s hands and
shoved off. As the dugout took the waves, she
turned her face and I swear there were tears in
her eyes. She probably thought she was seeing
me for the last time.
CHAPTER IV.
Alone!
A S the dugout disappeared amid the mist and
undulating driftwood, a feeling of unutter-
able loneliness welled up in me. Was I here
alone, definitely isolated from mankind, or was
I dreaming? Nothing seemed real. Oh. the
alienness of this island! An “Age of Reptiles”
island. Marooned ! Yes, marooned with a mur-
derous throwback, who had tried to abduct La
Blanca alive. Over the sighing tree-tops, more
silent now than at any time during the day, a
smothering atmosphere of unreality hung. Even
the sun, sinking slowly into the hazy jungles on
the western side of the river, looked like a huge
angry eye. One could hardly see it, however, be-
cause of the wings. Wings which flamed like
fire, for the red ibis were flocking to the island
to roost. And here I was — stranded for the
night. A wild Walpurgis night probably.
Stranded possibly for all time. Why should I
presume to believe La Blanca, or anyone, would
come over for me? What was I to these people?
The Jefe had warned me; he would shrug his
sloping shoulders and sigh : “The truth I told him
and he would not believe.” As to Sam, had I
not formally agreed, in the port officer’s pres-
ence, that he was not expected to look for me, or
to wait longer than ten days? Well, night was
coming on. No use maundering around like a
sick moon-calf. I must prepare for night. The
clammy feel of it was already in the air. De-
spite nostalgia, weak-knees and nauseating odors
from along the barricade, I must buck up and
build a fire. One could at least start a fire. It
would keep man-eaters at bay, and ghosts would
avoid the light. And if Carl were yet alive, he
would see it.
Humming a dreary dirge to keep my courage
up, I dragged an ample supply of driftwood from
the barricade, started a fire, made a pot of cof-
fee, and dined on the remnants of the lunch.
Then, amid a dazzling display of orange, yellow
and red colors, the sun dropped out of sight, and
here I sat in the thickening gloom, watching the
stars shimmer out and listening to the croaking
THE ISLAND OF TERROR
91
of frogs, the grunting of alligators, the creaking
of foliage freshening for the night, and the slith-
ering sounds behind the barricade.
It was a moonless light, yet the dogs were vis-
ible; like hulking shadows they stalked out of
the bushes and flattened themselves on the beach
somewhat nearer than they had ventured during
the day. Their presence made me feel a bit more
secure. The jungle was becoming noisy, but the
sounds were less alarming than I had anticipated.
Perhaps because escape was impossible. I was
cornered on a barren beach, between the jungle
and river. All the same, I tried to make myself
believe I was conquering fear. Howling mon-
keys? Pooh! I had heard them howl before.
The first time my heart skipped a beat was
when something fanned my face. A wide-winged
something, blacker than the night, which I
glimpsed as it vanished. A few minutes later
it returned, hovered for a time overhead, then
as noiselessly as a shadow volplaned away. What
a relief! It was only a bat, one of the Jefe’s
vampires. A blood-sucking bat, however, so I
had better not fall asleep. When flock of
wings fluttered into view, I picked up a stick
and waited. But these creatures were not bats ;
they were moths, wide-winged wonders, almost
as big as vampire bats. Fantasmas moths ! How
Carl must have thrilled, if they gyrated like this
around his campfire! To see them singe their
velvety wings brought back that sickly sensation,
but this time it was not caused by fear. I still
had control of my nerves and proved it by point-
ing a finger steadily at a star. Yes, I seemed to
have myself in hand.
The next moment, however, a loud peal of
lunatic laughter right behind the barricade made
my damned hair rise on end. Tittering off into
silence, it left me limp, mortified, panicky. Why,
Carl would have laughed back at the lunatic.
To recover control of my tingling nerves, I
walked around the fire, breathed the damp air
deeply, beat my breast, tried to mimic the titter-
ings and felt ashamed of the weakness of my
voice. It was torture to have to pretend to be
brave, to have to fight down this inborn craven-
ness, especially when I had almost convinced my-
self that I could control myself. In the midst of
my forced bravado, I caught the glimpse of
something so black that it looked like a shadow
in the moonless night, sliding along the barri-
cade. Revolver in hand, I might easily have
shot it, or have frightened it away, but I did not
think of shooting until it vanished.
Putting fresh fuel on the fire, I sat down on a
chunk of the driftwood and tried to reason my-
self into a saner sense of the situaton. At the
worst, this insane Thing could be nothing but
an atavistic man. As strong as a gorilla no
doubt, yet an armed man on an open beach, with
firelight to see by, should not be afraid to face
even a gorilla. The Thing was naked and un-
armed. Aside from the advantage the revolver
gave me, I had on hunting boots — pretty good
weapons in a scrimmage with a wild man. More-
over, I was conscious of my own strength.
Twenty-eight years old, a fair boxer and
wrestler, I should be able to knock out this
throwback Thing bare-handed, provided I had
the guts to stand up and fight like a white man.
Did I have the guts? If the anthropoid Thing
galumphed tittering at me, would my knees
weaken and my shammed courage fail? Ghosts?
Voices? Nothing like a specter had material-
ized, nor had I heard anything more voice-like
than the titterings of that half human Thing. It
was apparently the one thing to be feared. With
the dogs on guard, jaguars would keep to the
trees and alligators to their wallows. And pos-
sibly the Thing had no evil intentions. It might
be moved by curiosity, or feelings of loneliness,
or a hankering for companionship. Thus far it
had only spied on me. Yet its spying must be
actuated by insane malice. La Blanca, bless her
soul, it had tried to carry her off. And there
was sheer savagery in its laughter, without a
tremor of humanity, as hard and heartless as the
cachinnations of a blood-hungry hyena.
The Attack in the Night
I T was laughing again, from somewhere back of
the dogs. Like the night song of howling mon-
keys, the ear-splitting derision rose to a climax
and tittered off into silence. A frightful ulula-
tion to come from any kind of a throat, but this
time, thank God, my hair did not rise. So pleased
was I that I laughed back involuntarily — hyster-
ically perhaps, for it was not easy to stop laugh-
ing. Let it come ; I had gotten over being afraid
of it. Annoyingly, however, it made no response.
After listening in vain for more than an hour, I
concluded it must have gone to its lair, and began
thinking about Sam’s voices and ghosts. It was
midnight, the hour ghosts supposedly walked, but
where were the ghosts? And where were those
voices? To be true, there were bushes which be-
haved queerly and whines which sounded like
wails, but it would take something more substan-
tial to shake this new fine feeling of mine.
When the moon came up, flooding island and
river with mellow light, I found it possible to
whistle without a quiver. For some reason, how-
ever, the dogs were acting restless. As the moon
climbed higher among the trees, they backed far-
ther away, raised their hanging heads and
yawned; they were obviously trying to bay the
moon — a pathetic homage to the moon-baying
hounds from which these dumb ferals had de-
scended. Feeling fully secure in the bright moon-
light, I sat down and relaxed. The only thing
that kept me from dozing was a feeling that I
was being watched.
Of course I was being watched — by the dogs
and possibly by alligators, but other eyes were
upon me also. And no difference which way I
turned, something seemed to be slithering up be-
hind. A crazy state of mind, I concluded. Hear-
ing things which did not exist. Hallucinations.
Was I becoming jumpy and losing this fine feel-
ing of not being afraid? Why should I be jerk-
ing my head to right and left? I must calm my-
self, think of other subjects — La Blanca, for ex-
ample. She had plenty of time to paddle across
before sunset. And Juan, the greasy mop-head,
had sobered up sufficiently to wield the stroke
92
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
oar. No usft worrying about her. But would she
come back? Well, in a few hours I should know
it may have been these dreamy speculations,
or the moonlight, or the drowsing fragrance the
jungle breeze brought to my nostrils, or the
rhythmic plash of the waves on the beach, or the
fact that the jungle symphony had sunk into a
minor key, or just plain tiredness — something, at
any rate, made me feel very sleepy. My chin
between my hands, elbows on iny knees, I must
have slept, for I had no premonition of danger un-
til a club whirred past my head. Without know-
ing what had happened, I leaped to my feet in
time to sidestep the charge of the loup-garou.
And as it stumbled over the chunk, upon which
I had been sitting, out went my fist and sprawled
it literally belly-down across the ashes and em-
bers of the fire. Then foolishly, instead of pick-
ing up my revolver and ending matters, I gloated
over the frenzied Thing until it scrambled afoot,
and landed a straight from the shoulder blow in
its grimacing face. It would have dazed a mule,
but only staggered this Thing. A man might as
well use his fist on a stone.
Howling or laughing, I could not tell which,
it lunged forward and flopped its long arms
around my waist, so down we went together. A
sickening embrace, with its stinking breath in my
face. And the bestial Thing was trying to roll
me into the fire. My arms were free, however,
and I managed to break the clinch and get upon
my feet. Standing upon the defensive, I studied
this beast as critically as a bullfighter studies
his bull. No doubt about it: like Sam and the
dogs, it was a throwback. But in this creature
reversion had done its worst— produced an an-
throproid figure of a man. With deep-set beady
eyes, glowing like coals in the hairy face, it was
also scrutinizing me, somewhat amazedly I
thought, for I was still alive and had landed two
blows which may have hurt more than I sup-
posed. At any rate, instead of charging a sec-
ond time, it threw back its head and let out a
sharp blast of hyena laughter — not the insane
cackling to which I had become accustomed, but
a barking blast identical with that which sum-
moned the dogs to attack the jaguar.
Seeing the pack slink forward, my heart stood
still, and that sicky sensation, which I thought
had gone for good, welled up worse than ever.
At that moment, if the loup-garou had suspected
it, he could have pushed me over with his little
finger. But there he stood, leaning on his
knuckles, waiting for the pack to leap to the kill.
To my utter mystification, however, the dogs ad-
vanced only a few paces. They seemed to be
torn between conflicting propensities. To obey
or disobey the leader — ^that seemed to be the be-
wildering question in their wild brains. Turning
in circles, they snapped at one another, sniffed,
shook their hanging heads and finally squatted
on their haunches. Again that uncanny cackle,
louder and angrier than before, but the dogs did
not stir.
For the Leadership
H OW was I to know that pack law permitted a'
rival to depose an old leader any time? Yet
vaguely a suspicion of the truth popped into my
head: the dogs apparently regarded this affair
as a fight for the leadership, or mastership, in
which neither the pack as a whole, nor its mem-
bers, could take part. The man-smell in me and
the man-smell in this ape-like human must have
made us equally acceptable to their noses. And
the old leader, sensing the situation more keenly
than I, was now himself showing signs of fear.
That yellow streak in him, even more than the
merciful beha\dor of the dogs, energized me. My
gorge was rising. No longer weak-kneed, I felt
like fighting. Not to feel afraid — what a feel-
ing! Instead of forcing matter, I stood there
breathing deeply, getting stronger, bolder, mad-
der every moment. Meanwhile, there stood the
ape-man still leaning on his Imuckles — ^naked,
grimy, open mouthed — ^glancing furtively side-
ways, as if looking* for something. The club per-
haps. It was behind him. Let him spring for it.
I would spring for my revolver, whch was behind
me. The revolver in my hand would be more
deadly than the club in his. Instead of turning to
the club, however, he leaped at me.
Right and left, I landed on his bulbous nose,
backed up and undercut. But, because he could
lunge ahead faster than I could back away, I
found myself going down in another bestial em-
brace. Then the fiend’s bloody nose in my face
brought back that damnable nausea. Sajdng to
myself : “You’ve got to fight now,” I tore loose
and fought like hell. Fought with feet, as well
as hands, and fell flat upon my back. For the
fiend had grabbed hold of my right foot and was
dragging me slowly toward the little inlet, which
alligators used as a wallow. It was then that my
strength failed.
The hunched back of the beast was all I could
see. He was laughing now triumphantly. With
my free foot, I kicked frantically, but my boot
made no impression on that hairy rump. I
twisted, cursed myself for going limp to the death
this monster was dragging me to. Thank God,
La Blanca was not here to. . . Something was
jolting along under my back. Involuntarily, like
a drowning man clutching at a straw, my hand
closed round it. It was the gorilla’s club. The
club he had thrown at my head. A queer club —
a bone I A large bone with a hammer-like head.
Oh, the feel of it! I would do to this laughing
beast what La Blanca did to Juan, but I must do
it quickly and decisively. It was what she did
with her paddle that gave me strength for the
deed. That and the feel of the bone. Rising to
a sitting position, I took the bone in both hands,
drew back and struck like lightning. And the
loup-garou never turned his head; he just
stopped laughing, dropped my foot and staggered
on into the river — ^from which no one emerges.
It was all over — but the dogs. Suspecting that
in their noses a weak-winner stunk, I had sense
enough to make a show of strength. And it was
not all show, for I now felt strong and unafraid
even of the pack. It was a new kind of courage,
the sterling kind which had always actuated Carl.
Talk about casting out devils! I had cast off
fear. Rising to my feet, I brushed the sand from
my clothes, stalked straight through the pack.
THE ISLAND OF TERROR
93
sat down upon my chunk of wood and shouted;
“Como- here !” Like a king on a throne, I com-
manded, and those dumb dogs fawned forward
and dropped upon their bellies by the bumt-out
fire. One crawled closer and closer, and a half
hour later it was licking the bruises on my hands.
It was four o’clock by my watch. The moon
stood over the island, the loup-garou was no
longer at large, the werwolves were dozing at my
feet, the denizens of the jungle had gone to their
lairs, the day birds would soon be clearing their
throats, all was silent, golden, serene. I walked
to the island’s edge, at some distance from the
place where the laughing lunatic disappeared,
took off my clothes and splashed myself with
water. God, how glorious not to be looking and
listening for danger! Wonderfully exhilarating
the bath. I felt as converts feel while being bap-
tised. That blessed bone!
Starting the fire over again, I spread my clothes
on the warm sand beside it to dry, for I had given
them a wash also, and picked up the bone. Then
a creepy suspicion brought the sweat to my brow,
and I wondered if my fears were coming back.
Could this be a human bone? Firelight and moon-
light confirmed my suspicions beyond the shadow
of a doubt : this was a human femur ! Judging by
its length, a white man’s thighbone. And the
white man had been killed recently, for the organ-
ic matter was not yet dry.
As certainly as circumstances may decide any-
thing, I concluded this bone belonged to my bro-
ther’s skeleton. The realization, however, did not
disturb me at all. On the contrary, I gloated over
this avenging bone happily. It proved beyond
peradventure that Carl did not die in the ana-
conda’s foul lair. He had been killed more merci-
fully, more quickly, in the open air. Caught una-
wares, as a reckless lad would be, by the fiend
that sneaked up on me. Still more gratifying. It
was Carl, courageous Carl, that won the fight for
me. A bone of his body had brained the beast that
murdered him and saved me from the alligators.
My mission was assuredly ended. I was ready
to leave Fantasmas Island. But would La Blanca
come across again? Engaged to Juan. Someone
should save her from that grassy mop-head and
give her an education. How quickly she would
learn civilized ways. No trouble getting her out
of the jungle, but how about getting the jungle
out of her? Anyway, she was white. Why white?
All other mysteries had been solved scientifically.
The werwolves were plainly feral hounds, the
loup-garou an atavistic lunatic, the vampires
jungle bats, and the voices had not materialized.
But La Blanca ! How could she be a mestiza, yet
square-headed and white?
Mendelism! I shouted the word loud enough
to awaken the dogs. It had popped into my head
like a flash. An obvious explanation — so obvious
that I had overlooked it entirely. Did not my
own piebald mare, when bred to a sorrel stallion,
once give birth to a pure white colt? Of course.
La Blanca’s father, the Jefe’s son, was the sorrel
stallion, her spotted mother the piebald mare,
herself the pure white filly. Had I not seen brin-
~dle bulls and spotted cows produce prize-winning
white calves? And cats: didn’t Carl’s tortoise-
colored tabby, after yowling around with a yel-
low tom, fill a basket with kittens, one being per-
manently blue-eyed and white? Didn’t I once
pick a peach from an almond tree? If Mendelism
could produce white colts and calves and kittens,
it could produce white people in the same way. It
could produce a peach-of-a-girl, also. If mesfdzo
fathers and mothers could give birth to Indian
papooses, they would also now and then give
birth to a Spanish child. It was the law. Men-
delian Law. For, when two strains mix, ancestors
as well as parents are reproduced. What could
be plainer? From the comely squaws the blue-
blooded buccaneers seduced the mestizos had
descended. Then inbreeding, doing its best and
worst, shuffled and reshuffled the chromosomes,
which predetermine traits and characters, and
these mestizos, these human Mosaics, were the
result. Like a player who once in a lifetime draws
all the high cards in two packs which have been
shuffled together. La Blanca happened to draw a
full set of Spanish chromosomes, just as Juan
and his kind had drawn full sets of Indian
chromosomes. So she was the one white kitten
in the whole miscegenation. A true daughter of
old Spain. No wonder she could look me level in
the eyes.
It was five o’clock, the darkest hour before a
tropical dawn. But what did I care for darkness
now? This splendid feeling of courage, why, I
hoped something would put it to the test. And
something did put it to the test. Voices! Some-
where near at hand a woman was calling,
certainly, anywhere else it would be taken for a
woman’s voice, but here! “Wee-lo-lo! Wee-
lo-l-^o!” the voice was wailing. An echo? Im-
possible ; the jungle would smother it. A parrot.
Whoever heard of a wild parrot mimicking a
human voice, especially before daybreak? It
must be a woman; yet there were no women on
this haunted island — unless the loup-garou had a
crazy mate. Or was this a lost Lorelei, trying to
wee-lo-lo me into the woods?
Listening and speculating, I patted my breast,
because I was standing the test. Of course I was
immensely interested, but not afraid. The wonder
of this unafraid feeling! An hour ago, such
human outcries would have paralyzed me. Now
I hoped the crying creature would materialize.
And it did materialize. From among the man-
groves at the end of the barricade, where La
Blanca and I had tied the dugout in which Juan
slept, a shadow assumed the shape of a woman.
A lovely looking Lorelei, whom any man would
have welcomed. The do^ had raised their heads,
and the bristles were rising on their backs, which
seemed a bit strange, for they had lived here long
enough to be on friendly terms with ghosts.
“Down !’’ I shouted at the dogs, just as a second
apparition crawled from beneath the mangroves
and rose up beside the first. Then a hoarse voice
boomed and I shouted back. It was a shouting
matter. For La Blanca and Sam had sailed over
to take me off.
THE END.
mS
(Illrntration by Paul)
Smoke flared from the flyers and a shell burst in the midst of the attackers. Scales
and monsters flew in every direction.
94
THE STRUGGLE FOR NEPTUNE
T he king of Neptune, one “Dutch” Hoss, late
of Sing Sing prison and now paroled to Dana
Manson, stood, upon a rocky plateau on the
planet Neptune. Not an ordinary king was Dutch.
His clothes hung in shreds, the rags draping them-
selves almost gracefully over his stolid figure. A
two months’ beard covered his face, and his hair
was raggedly in need of the barber’s shears. Now
he stood on a boulder and
surveyed this small portion
of his vast domain.
To the south and east the
plateau became a valley of
purple hills and gullies
skirted in the distance by the
edge of the yellow-violet jun-
gle. The purplish waters of
a great lake to the west of
him heaved and gurgled in-
cessantly among the rocks on
the shore. The northern as-
pect of this vast land pre-
sented a picture of great bil-
lows of roaring steam, rising
from an outcropping of pure
radium. The black canopy of
clouds above admitted al-
most no sunlight. The only
source of illumination was
the radium under
the surface of the
ground, and this,
due to the fluores-
cense of minerals
in the soil, was
ghastly violet.
Hence the king’s
face was the hide-
ous color of dough
in a violet light,
with a tinge of sick-
ly blue.
Surrounding him
were some five
thousand of his na-
tive subjects. How
many more there
were he could not
say. These Nep-
tunians were huge
savages, rivaling in
weight even the
largest elephants.
Their bodies were
gorilla-like, except
that they were covered with heavy scales which
rattled and clattered with every movement, 1^-
ing composed of an oily substance intermixed with
grit and thick and heavy enough to offer resist-
ance to a machine gun bullet. Their mouths, wide
and hideous, increased the ferocity of faces which
possessed a single eye in the centre of the fore-
head. Their great arms hung to below their
knees, and terminated in three-fingered hands
which were so powerful that they could with ease
wrest a human ann from its socket.
Yet Dutch was unquestioned king of this gro-
tesque horde, for he held in his hand a stick tipped
with red crystal — -the only spark of red color on
this steaming, moist planet. Perhaps in the re-
mote past an unaccountable fire had broken forth,
and the natives had suffered some serious casual-
ties when oily scales caught
fire. At any rate, the red
crystal was an object of su-
perstitious fear and the
symbol of super-Neptunian
power and authority — the
crown jewel, as it were. Only
he who was favored by the
gods could touch that dread-
ful crystal with impunity.
Only he who dared to touch
it was deemed worthy to pos-
sess the absolute authority
of a monarch.
And now Dutch faced his
subjects, armed only with
this spark of red. He waved
it at the monsters for the
sheer joy of watching them
fall back in terror. He was
absolute ruler of a planet;
master of thou-
sands of monsters,
any one of whom
might easily have
swallowed the scep-
ter and then made
a meal of Dutch.
But such is the
bondage of super-
stition.
As he watched a
doughnut - shaped
space flyer emerged
from the clouds of
steam and flew rap-
idly toward him.
It hovered in the
air and then settled
gently to the
ground. Dutch wav-
ed his scaly sub-
jects away from
the flyer as the
steel door banged
open and his
friends, Dana and
Dr. Gailman, stepped out.
“Are you sure that you’ll be all right alone with
this mob until I get back with the fleet?” Dana
asked apprehensively.
“Sure. All I have to do is wave this jewel at
’em and they just about jump out of their scales.
I’ll have ’em bringing my meals to me in no time.
This beats laying around in the pen.”
“I suppose it does. But what would you do
HENDRIK DAHL JUVE
I N this story, sequel to the “Monsters of Nep-
tune” which appeared in the Summer Quarterly,
our good author treats of some of the lighter
sides of interplanetary expeditions and explora-
tions of strange worlds. Yet, despite the humorous
sides of the situation in which “Dutch” finds him-
self, there is much truth in the picture that Mr.
Juve gives us. If we were to attempt to conquer
an alien planet, the force of numbers alone would
overwhelm us. Strategy, and a keen understanding
of psychology of the inhabitants would be the great-
est weapons that our explorers could use.
However, as Mr. Juve suggests, a question of
morals arises here. Were our explorers justified in
precipitating these peaceful Neptunians into civil
war and carnage, destroying great numbers of them
in order that we should extract their great deposits
of radium? The question is not easy to answer for
the Neptunians have api^ently little use for the
precious stuff aud earthlings have. We invite the
comments of our readers.
96
96
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
if they should find out that that crystal isn’t dan-
gerous after all?”
“I never thought of that. But you said that it
has probably worked for millions of years, so why
shouldn’t it work for two or three months longer?
Anyway, they ain’t wise to it yet so we should
worry.”
“It probably will continue to be effective. But,
they aren’t accustomed to having a soft, juicy
king. They might take a notion to eat you and
elect a new king. You had better keep that cry-
stal with you every minute.”
“Don’t worry about me! You’re only president
of the Consolidated Interplanetary Transport Co.
But just look at me! I’m king of the whole
planet ! What I say goes ! When you get back to
dig radium I’ll have these huskies all ready to
run picks and shovels.”
“That’s great — but how are you going to tell
them?”
“Well — I aint thought of that, I — ”
“Just a moment,” Dr. Gailman interrupted. “I
can take care of that.”
Going into the ship, he presently began to
squeal and bellow and they knew that he was
making dictaphone records of the language.
Alone!
D r. gailman, sole survivor of the last of
many ill-fated exploring expeditions, had been
saved by the natives for some special feast, but
had been rescued by Dana and Dutch. During
his long wait he had learned most of the simple
language of the Neptunians.
Presently he returned with a reproducer and
several records which he handed to Dutch.
“Here are records of most of their language.
It shouldn’t take you long to learn it, since it is
very simple.”
“Fine, thanks,” said Dutch. “Now I’ll be able
to tell ’em what to do.”
“And you look like a scarecrow,” said Dana.
“Don’t you want some new clothes? There are
plenty in the ship.”
“That’s a good idea. This suit is kinda drop-
ping off.”
Dutch handed his scepter to Dana and went
into the locker room of the ship. He turned on
the electric lights and found a red silk pajama
affair — the prevailing fashion of the day. After
a bath and shave he donned the new clothing and
felt more like a monarch. When he emerged
he found that Dana had spread the camp equip-
ment and canned food over the damp ground in
orderly fashion.
“Thought that you might feel less like an ani-
mal if you had a camping outfit,” he said.
“Fine. We’ve been living in the jungle so long
that I didn’t think of that.”
“Say!” he exclaimed, looking down at his suit.
“What’s the matter with this outfit? It was red
when I put it on! I thought a red suit would be
good to help keep these huskies away from me.”
Dana laughed. “There is no red light here to
be reflected from the suit. That’s why it’s nearly
black out here.”
“But this jewel is red !”
“Certainly. But that red is due to fluores-
ence, if you know what I mean.”*
“Well, just so it stays red, we should worry.”
“If that’s all,” said Dana, “we’d better be get-
ting under way. Whatever you do, Dutch, be
careful. And be sure that you retain control so
that when we come back you can protect us. The
best way to do that is to keep out of trouble. See
that none of the Neptunians happen to touch the
crystal. If they should find out that the crystal
is harmless, our chance of getting anywhere with
our radium mine is gone. And the only way we’d
ever get you back to the earth would be to take
three or four of our big friends along.”
“So long. Don’t worry about me. And what-
ever you do, don’t forget to bring some smokes.”
His two companions entered the ship and closed
the door. Dutch stood, with some private mis-
givings, to be sure, watclxing the ship leap into the
air and disappear into the canopy of clouds.
For a full minute Dutch stared at the vanished
flyer and his last opportunity to return to the
earth for a long time. It seemed to take him that
long to realize that he was alone among savages.
But, stoic that he was, he presently shrugged his
wide shoulders and then set about the work of
pitching camp. He decided to establish his pal-
ace beside the shallow river south of the plateau.
Although he dared not drink the violet water, he
felt that there would be some comfort and feeling
of home if he could hear the gurgle of the river.
Then, too, the air was not so heavy out here in the
open as in the jungle. But there was little choice,
for the air was damp and hot, permeated with
the smell of groAving and decaying vegetation.
As Dana had said, “It smells like an old rotten
cellar with a new cedar door.”
The king motioned several of his subjects to
pick up his equipment. At first they did not un-
derstand, but after some difficulty and demonstra-
tions he managed to convey the idea. Five of
them gathered up the stores and followed him
across the plateau, the others drawing up in a
vast procession of clattering scales. It was a
triumphal march.
He forded the river and then selected a site
for his camp. Having motioned his porters to
deposit their burdens, he then waved them oh into
the jungle. They obediently rattled away and
disappeared into the growth of trees and vines.
The monarch set up his tent and arranged his
little stock of provisions. There was a gasoline
camp stove, a cot and bedding, cooking utensils
and a folding chair. When all was in order the
king sat down on the edge of the cot with a sigh
of contentment. Automatically reaching into his
pocket for his cigarette “makin’s”, he remembered
with disappointment that he was completely
“out”.
“Well, I’ll — ” he began and then shrugged.
“Better learn some language.”
He set up the phonograph and shoved a record
into place. Dr. Gailman had substituted a horn
for the usual tubes and the king now sat back
listening to the squeals and bellows by which he
was to make himself understood throughout his
Note: The particles shot from the radiam iii the groond strike
the crrstot and cause it to glow with induced lUdit, in this case a
red glow. In the ordinair sunlight of the eerth the crystal might
have been clear as plate glass, or any other oon>r.
THE STRUGGLE FOR NEPTUNE
97
kingdom. Slowly a grin spread over his pasty
face.
“Oh, my-gosh! What a lingo! But I might as
well start learning it now as laughing at it.”
Setting the needle at the beginning of the record
and having played the first bellow, he imitated it
carefully, and tried to associate it with its mean-
ing in English. Then he stopped the machine and
repeated the word over and over until he was cer-
tain that he knew it thoroughly, treating each
subsequent word in the same. Thus began the
education of the king.
CHAPTER II.
Trouble
F or several days all went well with the king.
He detailed several of the monsters to act as
personal servants and others he selected for
his body guard. Although he had studied the lan-
guage diligently, he now found necessity forced
him to learn more rapidly and easily. Since food
was of prime interest, he learned the names of
fruits and vegetables as quickly as possible. The
king found delight in sitting before his tent and
bellowing orders which sent scaly monsters into
the jungle in search of delicacies. They heaped
half ton piles of delicious and strange fruits
about his tent, never daring, however, to ap-
proach nearer than fifty feet to the dreaded cry-
stal.
The monarch sampled different fruits, selecting
those which pleased him most and ordering the
rest taken away. Since he dared not drink the
water of the river he ordered more grooons, a trans-
parent fruit about the size of a football and which
hung like a huge drop of water. The king punc-
tured the skin with the can opener and emptied
the juice into a pitcher. The taste reminded him
of a combination of strawberries and apricots.
It had just the right amount of tang, and he was
further pleased to find that the drink warmed
him ever so slightly.
There were other fruits which he decided to or-
der frequently. Great pods, some five and others
twelve feet long, furnished him with vegetables
which he found were just right for boiled din-
ners. He took another drink of grooon juice and
reached for his “makin’s”.
“Rats! If I had a smoke now, life would be
perfect. But I better learn some more language.”
He leaned back in his chair, listening to the
groans and bellows from the phonograph, mim-
icking them as best as he could. His servants
stood about listening and watching him curiously.
Thus continued the life of the monarch for sev-
eral “sleeps” as he put it (for there were no days
and nights with which to reckon time.) One day,
however, he noticed that one of his servants and
one of his guards were acting queerly.
The king had orderd a fresh supply of grooons
and glaaams (a variety of vegetable pod) but one
of the servants refused to move in response to the
order of his king. This savage, Gaambee by
name, had from the first seemed reluctant to
salaam before this foreign usurper of the throne,
but this was the first sign of open rebellion.
Dutch became angry. Seizing his red tipped
scepter, he rushed savagely at the rebellious
monster, shouting as best he could in their lan-
guage.
“Move!” he ordered. “To the jungle and
bring me food ! Go I”
As he advanced, waving the red crystal, the
monster’s eye opened wide with terror but he
stood his ground firmly. Encouraged, the king
leaped at the savage, expecting to see the Nep-
tunian cower and then slink away into the jungle
to fulfil orders. But the great, elephantine
monster lay down upon the ground and refused
to move. He gazed terror-stricken at the red
crystal, but seemed to be ready for whatever fate
befel those who were touched by the fateful red
light. He had the courage to die for his convict-
ing.
The king stopped abruptly. He was non-
plussed. He realized that if he should touch
the scaly giant with the red spark the Neptunian
would find that he was but the victim of a super-
stitious fear, and Dutch would shortly be repos-
ing in the monster’s spacious stomach.
Dutch went back to think it over. Here was
something he had not anticipated. Evidently one
of his subjects had become philosophical and
was ready to sacrifice his life in passive resist-
ance to his rule. He must show his authority —
but how? To rush upon the monster meant cer-
tain death, 'fo tolerate such gross insubordina-
tion meant the loss of his kingdom, and still
worse, the loss of Dana’s life.
The king was in a dilemma. He had no weap-
on with which to slay the rebel nor had he the
means for tying him up. Although Dutch was
in no immediate personal danger, the rebellion
might spread when the others saw the success
with which Gaambee resisted sovereign orders.
Although the king did not know the technical
details, here was the beginning of the passive
resistance of subjects that rides in advance of
national upheavals. All that he realized was
that he must not touch the balky savage with the
crystal, but that he must do something and do it
quickly.
To his right stood the six members of his body-
guard on duty at this time. An idea filtered
through his stolid mind.
“Guards !” he bellowed. “The king is insulted !
Here I am trying to civilize you and make some-
thing out of you and this man aint got enough
sense to see it. Eat him up or throw him into
the lake or make him obey orders! It aint the
king’s job to touch a rebel!”
The guards started forward to obey, but one of
their number, an exceptionally huge young sav-
age named Meebroo, leaped in front of them
and held up his arms to stop them. The other
five stopped short but kept an eye upon the
crystal in the hands of their sovereign.
Dutch listened to Meebroo talk to them. He
told them that they should fight for their rights
and positively refuse to obey the orders of this
foreign usurper. He harangued them for their
lack of pride. Were they going to kill one of
their own flesh and blood just because a soft
little animal such as they had eaten on other oc-
casions, ordered them to? Were they so degen-
98
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
erate that they were going to subject themselves
to foreign slavery for the rest of their lives? He
became blasphemous! Perhaps the red light
was not sacred when in the hands of the for-
eigner!
This last remark spread horror among the
cowed five. Never before had so audacious a
remark been made and they watched Meebroo,
evidently expecting to see him struck down by
some supernatural agency. But nothing hap-
pened.
“See,” he continued. “Nothing harms me!
Are you going to obey orders?”
The others stood irresolute and Dutch decided
that it was time to interpose.
“I hold the jewel,” he bellowed. “I am the
king ! Don’t listen to those infidels or something
will happen to you. Don’t you know a nation
divided against itself aint nothing but a mob?”
The five irresolute guards were terror-stricken
and started to advance but the one held them.
He told them that they had nothing to fear,
while he himself probably expected destruction
momentarily. When nothing happened he be-
came bolder and more arrogant. He told them
that they were fools to listen to this foreigner.
He told them to run into the jungle if they were
afraid to be near the king, but not to obey his
orders. And he won. The five stood.
Dutch was desperate. He wanted to run and
hide in the jungle but thoughts of Dana stopped
him. He realized that should Dana and his
men land upon the planet with the natives in
control, they would be promptly eaten. He sat
down upon his wobbly throne to ponder the
situation.
Combat!
T he more the king pondered the situation the
more he was convinced that more lives than
one were at stake. There were his own shape
and dignity to safeguard, but still more import-
ant, the life of his only friend, Dana, to preserve.
He had no weapons, but even if he had, they
would have been ineffectual anyway. He real-
ized that he was helpless to enforce his orders,
for these two insurgents, either of whom could
eat him without feeling overfed, were beginning
to pierce the thin shell of his authority. He
stuck the scepter upright in the ground and
leaned back to think, but it was useless.
Meebroo was drawing closer! Experimental-
ly, evidently. An overpowering desire to run
and hide in the jungle asserted itself, and the
king forgot ever^hing but that hideous mouth
and hungry eye. He arose from his camp stool,
picked up his scepter and a few articles which
he might need in the simple life of exile. Now
that he could not see the cruel nwuth of his en-
emy he again thought of Dana! The only man
who had befriended him and treated him as an
human being and equal ! No ! he must not run !
The king replaced the articles and again
started for the chair before the tent flaps. In
his worry and fright he stumbled over the five
gallon gasoline can and sprawled headlong on
the ground. He sat up and rubbed his bruised
shin and regarded the offending can. Fire!
They had used it before!
The monarch went into action. He seized a
tin cup from the folding table and filled it from
the can. He looked out at the insurgent who
was still lying on the ground eyeing him curious-
ly and ju^ a little triumphantly. Dutch found a
match and, holding the scepter and cup of gaso-
line in the same hand, advanced upon the prone
rebel.
“Do you stall refuse to obey orders?” he
roared.
There was no answer.
“Go to the jungle and bring me food !” Dutch
ordered. Still the rebel refused to answer or
move. The others stood about watching, fright-
ened and curious. They evidently detected a
new note in the king’s voice.
“I’ll give you one more chance,” the king bel-
lowed. “If you don’t beat it I’ll call the great
red light down on you and then where’ll you
be?”
The rebel cringed in terror but stubbornly
refused to move. His passive resistance had
been successful thus far, and he evidently con-
sidered his victory a permanent one.
Dutch struck the match and dropped it into
the cup of gasoline. It puffed slightly, and then
began to bum vigorously.
“Go!” he ordered again.
When the monster refused to obey this final
command the king threw the blazing liquid over
the prone savage. Spreading out over the
scales, the gasoline instantly leaped into a fierce
blaze and a cloud of black smoke. The rebel
leaped to his feet with a deafening bellow of
terror, but the damage was done. The oily
scales burst into murky flame.
Dutch turned and fled to a safe distance and
then stopped to watch. The living torch rushed
this way and that trying to escape the scorching
flames, but it was useless. A wide circle had
cleared as the other monsters drew back in ter-
ror. Eagerly the flames licked at the scales,
hissing and sputtering. The monster was a mass
of fire. A great cloud of black smoke followed
him as he ran about the cleared space.
He weakened, staggered. Righting himself,
he took another step and then pitched heavily
upon the king’s tent, flattening it to the ground
with a crash of tent poles and furniture. The
king groaned.
The gasoline can, crushed under the impact,
now added its contents to the conflagration and
the fire leaped into a roaring pyre of destmc-
tion.
Dutch looked toward the wet, dripping jungle
— ^his future home. The future looked soggy
indeed. He was now without matches and gas-
oline to enforce his orders. Nothing remained
but the red-tipped scepter.
CHAPTER III.
More Trouble
T he last glowing embers of the tragedy were
sending up a thin smudge of burning flesh
when the king turned toward the yellow-violet
tangle of wet trees and vines. The savages, ter-
rified by the frightful display of sovereign dis-
THE STRUGGLE FOR NEPTUNE
99
pleasure, groveled in their attempts to please
their mighty king, but kept at a very respectful
distance. Meebroo, the guard, alone seemed to
be unconvinced. He remained unbending and
contemptuous. Dutch watched him closely, but
that was all that he could do about it.
The king was sorrowful. Not that he
moaned the loss of the rebel — ^there were plenty
of inhabitants — ^but he bewailed the loss of the
comparative comforts and dignity of his camp.
He had gone half way to the jungle when an
idea occurred to him. Slowly the plans formu-
lated and he again issued orders. He would
build a brush hut!
He turned back to the river and selected a new
site. While some of his subjects were in the
jungle gathering brush and vines he ordered
others to clear the ground. With their powerful
fingers, other dug two holes some twelve feet
apart and two feet deep. The monarch then
went to the jungle and selected two small trees
which he ordered to be broken down and
snapped off to the proper length. These were
set into the holes. A ridge pole was then slid
between them, thru the forks, and the whole
covered with a thick layer of brush. He then or-
dered a large rock taken to the door of his hut,
to be arranged as a seat. He was again the
mighty monarch who possessed the only house
and throne on the planet.
In all dignity Dutch sat down and ordered
fruits brought from the jungle. Again the or-
derly routine of existence began.
For three “sleeps” Dutch, although without
material luxuries, lived in all the_ despotic life
of an Oriental potentate. His subjects groveled
in their attempts to please him.
Only the young giant, Meebroo, positively re-
fused to obey orders. Although he did not dare
attempt to do the king personal injury, his phil-
osophy did not permit him to bow down to or-
ders. He maintained his regime of passive re-
sistance despite the horrible fate of his co-con-
spirator. At first the king chose to ignore him
entirely so far as open attempts to break down
his resistance were concerned. Nevertheless, he
realized that here was a nucleus about which a
fatal canker might grow.
It was upon arising from his fourth “sleep”
that the king stretched, yawned, and then or-
dered fruit. His servants were on their way,
and the king was about to seat himself upon his
throne when he stiffened. Meebroo had acquired
a convert!
This new addition to the camp of the rebels
was a huge, hot tempered member of the king’s
own servant mob. His name was Grroo. He
was younger than Meebroo but even larger.
Dutch was furious. He arose from his throne
too angry to be dignified. He rushed at the new
rebel, waving his scepter, as he bellowed orders
that the young servant go immediately to the
jungle.
Grroo was terrified. He cowered before the
wrath of the monarch and was on the point of
terror-stricken flight when Meebroo fortified him
with words of moral courage. Dutch tried to
overwhelm the new convert with sheer force of
bluster but the elder rebel laid hold upon his new
ally and reassured him. Dutch was now almost
upon them and dared not go farther. This did
much to calm Grroo ; for he seemed to lose some
of his fright, and a light of dogged determina-
tion came into his eye. He assumed an attitude
of resigned persistence.
Realizing that he had lost his one opportunity,
Dutch returned to his throne where he sat pon-
dering this new situation as doggedly as they
faced him. His breakfast arrived and he ate
heartily of raw fruits, for he had no fire.
After the meal the king began anew to con-
sider his dilemma. Now this particular king was
not accustomed to resort to strategy when con-
fronted with trouble. Before coming to Nep-
tune and into his kingship, it had been his policy
to go into instant and violent action and then to
do his arguing with his foot on his enemy’s chest.
But here he was confronted by beings so ponder-
ous that such tactics were obviously foolhardy.
Hence this unusual strain upon his mental pro-
cesses.
Often while reading newspapers at his far-a-
way home on the earth, Dutch had wondered
about this thing called diplomacy. He had looked
upon it as the admission of weakness and the
cloak of graft, but now he began to see it in a
new light, and to wish that he had had occasion
to develop this unique and strenuous method of
settling disputes.
For on hour he cast about for some inspira-
tion. Never before had he spent so much time
over one little problem. He wondered why Mee-
broo chose to regard him with distaste. What
could he gain? As if this question were a key
that unlocked the vast storehouse of his subcon-
scious, Dutch suddenly realized that Meebroo
had his eye upon this job of being king. He real-
ized that the rebel was not motivated by any de-
sire to better his race or to relieve them of bond-
age — ^there was no such high thought anywhere
on the planet — but to shift the advantage of this
bondage to himself. This ambition was prob-
ably enhanced by the prospect of a kingly meal
should he succeed in overthrowing the ruler.
Strategy!
T he king wondered what was to be done next,
now that there were two of the enemy to con-
tend with. What did the so-called diplomats do
when they were in a snarl like this? Shift the
responsibility and pretend to divide the spoils!
But the king was a man of action. Scarcely had
the thought flashed through his mind when he
leaped to his feet and addressed the two rebels.
“The king knows that Meebroo and Grroo are
brave and wise. It aint right that they should
work — ^they should boss the rest. I have de-
cided to make them chiefs. We’ll divide the tribe
into two smaller tribes and Meebroo can boss
one half and Grroo the other. Of course I’ll be
king of the whole bunch and you’ll be my lieu-
tenants.”
Dutch paused to see the result of his words.
The two rebels had become suddenly interested.
The idea seemed novel to them but it appealed to
100
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
their limited intelligence. They nodded vigor-
ously with a great clatter of scales.
The king sent his servants into the jungle to
call the tribe together and then sat down to wait
and listen to his two lieutenants discuss the mat-
ter.
Although Dutch could not yet understand all
their words, he gathered from their talk that a
rivalry existed between them. It happened that
they were both of the younger set and unmarried.
Now that they had suddenly become men of
power and distinction they wished to marry but
contention arose when they discovered that they
each wished to marry the same female, the com-
munity belle.
Dutch listened and grinned.
“Sounds just like the time Jimmy Nichols and
me had a scrap over the Jenson girl and she
settled it by walking home from school with an-
other guy. Wonder where she is now?” The
king said this aloud, since he often talked to
himself to relieve his loneliness.
The discussion of the lieutenants was inter-
rupted by the approach of the first members of
the tribe from the jungle. The word had spread
rapidly and now thousands of the scaly monsters
poured from the tangle of vines from all sides
until the din of their powerful voices and clat-
tering scales was terrific.
Dutch directed them to assemble on the pla-
teau, and then, picking up his scepter, he fol-
lowed the seemingly endless stream. They
formed a dense crowd on the level ground. The
king estimated that there were at least ten thous-
and present. Still others were coming across
the hills and fording the river. He waited.
Never until now had the king realized the vast-
ness of his kingdom. He wondered how many of
the beasts there might be on other continents but
had no means of knowing. Some fifty thousand
were now gathered, waiting patiently for his
words. Fifty feet away stood his two lieuten-
ants and his body guard. Dutch, unable to make
his voice carry to the vast multitude, addressed
himself to his lieutenants.
“Go through the bunch and divide them in
two,” he ordered. “Those on the left side will be
under the orders of Meebroo and the rest under
Grroo. Then tell ’em what it’s all about.”
Dutch, having given his orders, swelled out his
chest just a trifle, for it thrilled even this stolid
king to command so vast a herd. Then too, he
was delighted by the turn of events.
The two went through the assemblage of mon-
sters, clearing a lane. There was a great commo-
tion and clatter of scales intermingled with a
bellowing that reminded Dutch of a stampede of
Texas long horns. At last the herd was divided
and the commanders ordered silence. Gradually
the hubbub subsided and the lieutenants ex-
plained the situation to the two groups. Dutch
grinned delightedly when each leader enlarged
upon his greatness in the eyes of the king.
“Maybe that’ll hold ’em awhile. Who’da
thought that they’d take me up on it?”
CHAPTER IV.
IThundert
T he leaders were waxing large and boastful and
all was progressing nicely when a new ele-
ment of discord entered into this division of
spoils. Since females and “calves” as Dutch
called the young, were in the groups, as well as
males, the female under dispute between the
two leaders was present. And since she could
not be in both groups at the same time, trouble
was pending.
ITie friction rose when Grroo discovered her
in Meebroo’s crowd. Instantly he forgot his own
greatness and clattered over to her. Without
ceremony he seized her giant “hand” and hustled
her toward his own tribe. But this did not meet
with the approval of Meebroo and he intercepted
them. The ensuing argument lasted for fifteen
minutes, becoming more personal and intense as
time elapsed. Dutch became alarmed.
“Let’s settle this argument like gentlemen,” he
bellowed, “Suppose we let the lady decide and
see who wins?”
They did not understand until he explained
that she might choose one of them. The idea was
entirely new but finally they agreed to try it.
“Choose,” Dutch ordered.
The female in the case hesitated, looking first
at one and then at the other. Suddenly she
pointed her finger at Dutch himself.
The ignominy of the proposal staggered the
king. At last he found his voice.
“No ! No ! I don’t want you ! Choose one of
the lieutenants.”
Again she hesitated, casting amorous glances
upon Dutch, but he waved his scepter at her and
she fell back in terror.
“Now choose !” he ordered.
Too terrified to disobey, she instantly pointed
to Grroo. The triumphant suitor again seized
her hand and proceeded to conduct her to his
tribe.
Now the idea of the woman choosing the hus-
band seemed to be the only solution so far as
Grroo was concerned and he wished to drop the
argument at once, but Meebroo seemed to think
that there was something wrong and expressed
himself emphatically. Again the argument be-
came hot. The two bellowed and squealed while
the woman under dispute stood aside, frightened
and astonished.
The king became alarmed once more. He
shouted orders that they desist, but they could
not hear his puny voice through the uproar. Fin-
ally he drew back.
“What if they do fight — one might kill the
other and that’ll leave only one to bother with,”
he shrugged.
He drew farther away from the quarrel for
it had now approached the point where the
science of hurtled solids might be employed. He
listened to their argument.
Suddenly there was a pause in the vocal bar-
rage. Meebroo had thought of a wonderful idea.
“Aren’t we each leaders of half of the tribe?”
he challenged. “Suppose we lead our tribes into
THE STRUGGLE FOR NEPTUNE
101
battle and let the winner have the girl. No one
except the one in the right can possibly be the
winner.”
Grroo pondered this challenge. He possessed
the female through her own choice and that was
the only possible brand of justice that he could
countenance. The idea of might being inter-
changeable with right had suddenly became too
crude for this particular philosopher.
“I don’t think that might makes right,” he
said in effect. “But if you desire trouble, of
course I’ll defend my property to the best of
my ability.”
Meebroo turned to his tribe and fired them to
battle with a speech that would have done jus-
tice to the best agitator. He pictured to them
the luxury of enslaving the other tribe. He told
them of the great feast they would have after
the battle when enemy dead were strewn over
the field. Never before had the spoils of war
been so attractively pictured to potential can-
non fodder. He told them of the insults that
had been heaped upon them by their enemy. He
told them that their very existence was at stake.
Under his fiery words the mob grew restless.
Their eyes gleamed with hate for their mortal
enemies. They began to sway in unison to the
rhythm of the emotional words of their leader,
emitting howls of rage and calls for blood. The
scales rattled more and more loudly until the
voice of the speaker was lost in the vast crash-
ing thunder. Even the roar of the steam from
the radium was drowned out.
At the psychological moment Meebroo sprang
toward the enemy and then deftly got out of the
way. It was the last straw. The vast assemblage
of monsters surged into action.
Dutch was terrified. Never before had a king
run so fast. He bounded over the plateau like
a frightened deer until he felt safe in the dis-
tance.
Stopping to view the battle, he saw that two
armies, men, women and children, were surging
and milling in a hopeless combat while the two
commanders stood aside and shouted encourage-
ment. The din was frightful. There was the
clatter of millions of scales clashing and rattling,
and the deafening uproar of fifty thousand tre-
mendous voices heightened by cries of rage and
hate and pain.
Boulders clouded the air and occasionally the
giant contenders themselves were flung bodily
over the heads of the others. The ground itseH
shook with the impact of heavy feet and bodies.
Dutch, despite his stoicism was appalled. His
little diplomatic ruse had grown to the propor-
tions of an earthquake. He tried to think of
some means of stopping the carnage but the ter-
rific din confused him and he gave it up.
The warriors became heated. Steam rose from
the struggle and a strong odor of fish permeated
the air. Gradually the mob strung out into a
line as one side tried to surround the other and
they in turn reached out to forestall the move.
The fighting line grew longer and longer until
the fighters were spread over five or six miles of
plain.
The center of the line began to bend. The
warriors of Meebroo were gradually forcing the
enemy back. The fighting becoming more in-
tense, the army of Meebroo began to shout with
redoubled force as it perceived that it was tri-
umphant. Boulders , flew thicker and faster.
Grroo’s whole line wavered and then broke and
fled in wild confusion. The ground was strewn
with dead and wounded.
Gradually the shouting died down and the up-
roar ceased. Meebroo came up to his king, tri-
umphant and glutted with victory.
“Meebroo is right,” he gloated,, “Grroo was
wrong. Woman should not choose their mates —
it is proved.”
“Clear the dead off the field!” Dutch ordered.
He had the upper hand of the situation and
meant to keep it.
Meebroo clattered away and bellowed orders.
Quickly the dead and wounded were gathered
up and the vast procession filed away into the
jungle.
From previous experience, Dutch knew where
they were going. Deep in the jungle was a huge
grotto where gruesome ceremonies were held.
The Victors Celebrate
A lthough the king cared nothing for their
ceremonies, he was uneasy. Seldom it was
that Dutch anticipated trouble, but the odds
against him were so stupendous that he dared
not but follow his subjects. Since there was
nothing left of his palace equipment, he turned
toward the jungle and followed the victorious
army. He crossed the stream and then wound
around the hills until he came to the great tangle
of yellow-violet trees and vines. So dense was
the growth that the natives maintained tunnels
through the dripping mass. The king selected
one of the tunnels into which the army had dis-
appeared, and plunged after in pursuit.
Had this jungle been on the earth, the interior
of the tunnel would have been dark as night,
but here the light came up from the ground,
thus maintaining a uniform intensity of illumina-
tion that was equal to that of the plain.
The path had been churned by countless feet
into a thin, creamy mud in which the king waded
ankle deep. But it was this same disagreeable
mud which guided him through the maze of
tunnels and cross passages, for the sides of the
recently used course were newly splashed with
dripping mud. Occasionally he heard the bel-
low of warriors deep in the jungle but so far in
advance were they that it was only the louder
sounds that reached him.
For three “sleeps” the king penetrated deeper
and deeper into the mysterious jungle, living on
the fruits, which grew in abundance, and bewail-
ing the fact that his personal servants were not
present to administer to his wants. At last he
heard the tremendous thump, thump of the great
drums and knew that he had not far to go.
The booming of the drums became louder as
he advanced and after two or three miles he
could hear faintly the rattle of the scales as they
clattered in unison with the drumbeats. Two
more miles and he came to the turn in the tunnel
that revealed the grotto.
102
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
A monster room had been tom out of the
living jungle by the natives. It was equal in
size to four city blocks and about two hundred
feet high in the center. Yet so dense was the
matted vines of the roof that no opening re-
vealed the black canopy of clouds above.
The dead had been piled up in the center of
the amphitheater and a part of the tribe of Mee-
broo was dancing to the rhythm of eight monster
hollow-log drums as eight musicians beat upon
them with huge boulders. The logs emitted a
strangely resonant boom that shook the walls of
the grotto and this, together with the clatter of
scales and the thump of hundreds of feet, made
the din deafening.
The king went into the room and stood against
the wall for a time. Steam rose from the bodies
of the dancers and the place smelled like a fish
stall in July.
Suddenly the tempo of the drummers
changed and the dancers filed out of the grotto
while another group of the victors took their
places. Dutch knew that the others were now
resting and that this ridiculous dancing would
continue for at least five days.
Now the king noticed an alarming develop-
ment. Mingled with the dancers were some na-
tives whom he recognized as belonging to Grroo’s
crowd. Far from being ejected by the victors,
they were accepted as if trouble had never ex-
isted between them. In fact, their recent diffi-
culty seemed to have been forgotten entirely.
Eventually the king tired of watching the
stupendous dance and went back into the tun-
nel. He walked for a half hour and then bur-
rowed into the dense jungle beside the tunnel.
After kicking and shoving he cleared a space
and lay down to sleep. For this stolid king there
was nothing like a good nap to dispel trouble-
some thoughts.
It required five regular “sleeps” and as many
naps before the proceedings came to a climax.
Dutch returned to the grotto when he heard un-
mistakable signs in the increased speed of the
dancers. The entire tribe and most of Grroo’s
followers were now in the chamber, dancing
desperately. The place was hot and moist and
the fishy odor was almost choking. Added to
this was a new odor coming from the center of
the hall.
Whereas the sound had been terrible at the
start, now that they were all present, it was thun-
derous. The very ground shook in unison with
the drums.
Gradually the drummers increased the speed
of the dance until the natives were contorting
frantically. Dutch knew that the time and the
meat were almost ripe.
Now a cold perspiration oozed out of the king.
Part way around the side of the grotto and out of
the mad swirl he spied Meebroo and Grroo con-
versing on the friendliest of terms!
Dutch slipped into one of the tunnels and hur-
riedly found cross tunnels until he was on their
side of the grotto. Quickly he ran to the edge
of the hall where he could be near his rebellious
lieutenants. They were standing beside tiie tun-
nel mouth, bellowing loudly at each other that
their voices might be heard above the din. Dutch
listened.
“We were fools,” Meebroo was saying. “We
fought over a girl only to have her killed in the
battle. At least, now we can be friends and
combine against the despot. He was right when
he said that a nation divided against itself aint
nothing but a mob.”
“And did you see when he called the red light
down on poor Gaambee? He had something in
his hand other than that scepter. I have been
wondering about it ever since it happened. I
believe that it was some other magic than the red
wand. I have been wondering if the rest of his
magic was not destroyed when Gaambee fell over
his tunnel and crushed it. I have noticed that he
has not used the magic again although he should
have.”
“I have been wondering about that too. As
soon as the feast is over I myself will test him.
I am no longer afraid of the red light. It seems
to me that it amounts to nothing. We can then
get control of the nation and live as we should
live.”
The other philosopher agreed. “But we must
not let the common herd know of our discovery.
To blaspheme as we are apparently now doing
might result in our being eaten.”
CHAPTER V.
The King Flees
^HE king drew back into the tunnel. His in-
sight into human and animal nature told him
that his reign was rapidly drawing to an end.
He was on the verge of flight when suddenly he
was arrested by an abrupt silence that permeated
the place. Not a scale rattled; not a breath
stirred. The jungle became a place of profound
silence. But only for a moment. As abruptly as
the dancing had ceased pandemonium shook the
air and jarred the ground. The king ran to the
mouth of the tunnel and watched the feast, for-
getful of his own danger. The entire mob, Grroo
and Meebroo included, had pounced upon the af-
termath of battle and the loosened scales flew in
all directions. Presently violet bones followed the
scales.
For a half hour the king enjoyed his disgust,
and then it was too late. The wild feast was over
and Meebroo, still gnawing on a bone, spied the
king standing beside the tunnel. With a bellow
that rang high above the turmoil, he threw away
the bone and charged at the monarch, Grroo close
at his heels.
Forgetting his late adventures in diplomacy, the
king turned and fled ignorainiously down the tun-
nel. He sped around a turn and then gathered his
wits out of the chaos of panic. He realized that
he could not hope to outrun the monsters. There
was but one thing to do and he did it hastily.
Finding a spot where the jungle was less dense
than usual, the king burrowed out of the path in
a most unkingly fashion. And just in time.
Scarcely had he concealed himself than the two
rebels clattered by.
Dutch knew that he was comparatively safe for
the time being, for he recalled that these monsters
THE STRUGGLE FOR NEPTUNE
103
seldom left the tunnels except in search of food.
But that did not alleviate the danger into wnich
Dana might fly at any moment. The more he
thought of Dana the more desperate he became.
He felt that he was not fulfilling a trust — ^the only
trust that had ever amounted to anything. And
now that the two rebels had combined against him
there was no room for diplomatic experiments.
Perhaps for the first time in his life, Dutch was
sorely woiTied. He thrust aside a mad impulse
to go out and battle in the good old way against
frightful odds. He looked at the bright little
crystal in the end of the scepter and then thrust
it from him with a snort. He lay pondering for a
time and then, regretting his rash move, he again
clutched the harmless weapon, for he realized
that it was still effective against all except the two
rebels who had abandoned their passive resistance
for the more effective regime.
Quietly he listened to the other members of the
tribe disperse through the many tunnels. When
the clatter of their scales was lost in the depths of
the jungle and all was quiet, the exile pushed his
way into the tunnel and turned toward the north.
One thought was uppermost in his mind. Before
the rebels found opportunity to take over the
reigns of government and eat the king, he would
warn his friend away from the perils which lurked
on every hand. Even though they might not dig
radium and revolutionize transportation on the
earth, at least Dana’s life might be saved and pos-
sibly his own.
“Damn!” he groaned. “Sitting around in Sing
Sing beats this! I’m beginning to miss the iron
scenery.”
As rapidly as possible and with a minimum of
“sleeps” the ex-king traveled toward the plain
where he knew that Dana would land his fleet of
ships. Occasionally he was forced to burrow out
of the tunnel to avoid natives who were searching
for him. Fortunately for Dutch, the monsters
could not move without a loud clatter of scales
while he himself could slip noiselessly along.
At last he came in sight of the clearing but now
his heart ffll. Along the edge of the jungle na-
tives had been stationed. As far as he could see
was that circle of sentinels. He drew back into
a clump of brush that stood isolated at the edge
of the plain and relapsed into a policy of watchful
waiting.
Presently he spied Meebroo and Grroo coming
toward him.. When they came within a quarter
of a mile of his hiding place he could follow some
of their conversation.
“He is sure to come here again and then the
guards can locate him and we will have a chance
to try out that scepter.” Meebroo was saying:
“Then too, the other infidels might come back to
get him and we can have a great feast.”
He missed part of Grroo’s reply, but picked up
some of it. “. . . .reasonable that they would not
leave him here. Surely you reason correctly.”
There followed some low tones that were prob-
ably too blasphemous for the ears of the mob.
But the ex-king was tired and sleepy and soon
had passed into oblivion. Even a sorely beset
exile cannot remain awake forever.
For two “sleeps” Dutch remained on watch.
Occasionally he crept from his hiding place and
went into the jungle to gather fruit but always
returned to his hiding place for from here he com-
manded a view of much of the plain.
As time passed he became more restless and
worried. 'Try as he did, he could figure out no
plan to regain control of the natives. He had
found from experience that for the best results,
shrewd diplomacy required two factions. But now
the entire tribe was solidly united under the lead-
ership of the reconciled rebels. And his friend
Dana was due to return at any moment!
Another “sleep” passed and still he found no
solution. He had thought of catching one of the
rebels alone and trying to split up the merger but
the two had become as chummy as Damon and
Pythias. Added to this inconvenience, was the
danger of being eaten before he could have time
to say anything. Dutch idly wondered if they
found solace in each other’s company now that the
common object of their hymeneal ambitions was
dead.
But time was slipping and each moment brought
catastrophe closer. Dutch had racked his mind
for hours but only one solution presented itself.
He decided that he would watch until he saw one
of Dana’s space flyers drop through the black
cloud. At first sight of the ship he would run out
from his cover and give himself up, trusting that
this would so divert the attention of the natives
that they would not notice the ships. He figured
on the further chance that Dana might happen to
see Dutch run out and be eaten and then deduce
what had happened. Not a bright prospect, truly,
but the only one Dutch could evolve and the only
chance he saw for preserving his friend’s life.
Death and Life
W ITH his mind fully made up and his plans
ready, Dutch lay back in Ws hiding place,
watching the black canopy of vapor. For hours he
lay, not daring to leave in search of food.
At last he was rewarded. A black object
dropped cautiously through the cloud ceiling and
hovered for a moment as though scanning the
ground beneath. Dutch leaped to his feet in read-
iness to rush out into the open. He took another
glance at the ship to make sure that her telescopes
had cleared the vapor since he wished to assure
himself that they would see his bloody signal.
For an instant he hovered between sacrifice and
amazement. There was something familiar yet
strange about the ship. He waited. A red light
suffused the ship and the cloud. The flyer dropped
lower and Dutch drew back into the brush, too
amazed to think, even with usual slowness. Instead
of the doughnut shaped craft from the earth, this
was spherical. On top was a tower which emitted
a powerful red light. Then he knew ! He had seen
them often. It was a space flyer from Mars ! 'The
red light was characteristic of them when in flight.
The ship dropped lower and the light from the
nullifier dropped below the cloud. 'The whole plain
was suffused by the ghastly red light.
The craft sank slowly to the ground and then,
when the nullifier was shut off, the blaze of red
light went out. Doors clanged open and several
of the queer little egg-shaped men from Mars came
104
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
out of their flyer to survey the countryside. Dutch
had often seen these men on freighters plying be-
tween the earth and Mars and had never ceased
to marvel. Their egg-shaped bodies were fitted
with long slender arms and legs. But the most
amazing thing about them was the single, com-
pound eye perched on the end of a spike protruding
from the top of the neckless head. Since the eye
was spherical they could see in all directions at the
same time. No wonder their ships were odd.
But the ex-king was thinking! Here again
were the two factions for his simple diplomatic
manipulations. So rapidly did thoughts and plans
flash through Dutch’s mind that he was startled
and confused. But one thought was uppermost.
Greater diplomacy hath no man than he who sac-
rifices the lives of his enemies for his friends and
himself.
The Neptunians had all drawn into the jungle
and not a single being stirred. Dutch had seen
Meebroo and Grroo scurry into a tunnel some dis-
tance from his own and he now dived into a cross
tunnel and sped rapidly to the east. At last he
came to the tunnel into which the two rebels had
gone. He found the two talking in low tones. Twen-
ty or more of his subjects huddled nearby,
Dutch rushed up to the rebels who were now so
occupied with this new intrusion that they did not
think of philosophizing over the remains of the
now more familiar Earthian. He brandished his
scepter and began his speech.
“Now you guys are in for it. .” he said in Eng-
lish and then recovered himself and switched to
their tongue. “Now you guys are in a sweet mess.
Those are the terrible men from Mars. They have
come to enslave you and your people. If they get
control over this planet they will work you and
your kids for ages. They are greedy and danger-
ous. They think only of their own good. Tliey
must be destroyed,”
“But,” Meebroo objected, “didn’t you see the
great magic ; the sacred gleam that lighted up the
whole place? It is the most powerful magic we
have seen. We shall be destroyed!”
Dutch waved the argument aside with a snort.
“T^at aint magic at all. It can’t kill like this wand
I’m holding. You have seen me call down the red
magic. Their light aint magic because they are
infidels. It is only a light. Meebroo and Grroo.
you are the mightiest of the land except me. I
make you leaders who are to go out there and kill
the men of Mars. Your names will be talked about
for a long time. Your kids and their kids will say
that you saved them from slavery.”
But Dutch was inspired. He appealed to other
emotions than vanity. He appealed to appetites as
well.
“'The men of Mars are soft and juicy. Think of
the great feast you will have? They can’t hurt
you and you can eat them without waiting for
scales to get loose. Go, and lead the gang to the
big feed!”
Meebroo and Grroo bloated with dignity and
self pride. But the ex-king was a man of action.
Without waiting for their assent he called loudly
for others to come and presently there were over
two hundred of the clattering monsters assembled.
“Meebroo and Grroo are great guys. They are
going to lead you to a great feed,” Dutch told them
in loud tones. “The terrible men of Mars have come
to make slaves of you and I am going to keep you
free. Now go!”
The deluded leaders needed no further urging
for they now stood undeniably far in advance of
their fellows. They bellowed orders with pomposi-
ty and then led the column out of the jungle and
down into the valley of hills.
CHAPTER VI.
Battle!
D utch stood at the edge of the jungle to watch
the proceedings. He was a little conscience-
stricken over the trouble he was causing. “Still,”
he mused as he attempted to still the mocking
voice of conscience, “Dana is in danger and he’s
worth more than two ship loads of men of Mars
put together. Oh, well, the Martians would get
eaten up anyway so why do more with ’em than
just fill bellies?”
The attacking column had strung out and was
winding through the little valleys among the hills.
Sometimes they were lost to his sight and then
they would reappear farther in the distance. Dutch
could see them ford the river and climb into the
valleys on the other side of the stream. Their
clatter was becoming lost in the distance.
Evidently the men of Mars had not seen them
for they continued to pour out of the ship and wan-
der farther and farther from the flyer. Dutch
reasoned that they could not hear the rattle of the
scales for they were too close to the roaring steam
from the outcropping radium.
Other Neptunians now began to join the attack,
pouring out of the jungle from all sides and drop-
ping out of sight among the hills.
•rhe ex-king climbed a little hill that he might
view the impending battle with greater ease. He
dared not go closer for he feared that the Martians
might use a death ray. Although the ray had no
effect upon the battlers of Neptune, Dutch himself
respected the apparatus with all the fear of past
experience and training.
The two leaders of the attack were just leaving
the last gulley and emerging upon the plain. Dutch
became tense. He saw the Martians point to the
attackers and apparently hail one another. They
ran toward their ship but some of them had wan-
dered too far and were cut off. Before the victims
could enter their flyer and close the doors the pon-
derous horde was upon them.
A brilliant point of green light appeared on the
side of the space flyer. Another and another blink-
ed on and Dutch knew that the death rays were
playing upon the scaly monsters. He imagined the
consternation of the Martians when they found
that their most effective weapon was useless.
Some of the Neptunians had gained the door and
were fighting for entrance while others were catch-
ing and eating the stragglers who had been cut off.
Other hordes of Dutch’s kingdom were drawing up
and throwing themselves into the fight.
. Suddenly a puff of smoke flared from the side of
the flyer and almost immediately a shell burst in
the midst of the attackers. Sc^es arid monsters
THE STRUGGLE FOR NEPTUNE
105
flew in every direction. The ex-king was amazed.
He did not know that the Martians had adopted the
cannon of the Earthians.
The Neptunians fell back under this unexpected
attack but Dutch could see two of them waving the
others on again. He judged that these must be
Meebroo and Grroo, heroically garnishing their
names with glory for future historians to struggle
over.
Another shell was fired. It struck one of the
leaders fairly amidships and scattered him in a
glory of spectacular fireworks.
The attackers appeared incensed over this want-
on destruction for they surged in a savage mob
that swept ever 3 i;hing before it. Two more guns
opened rapid fire and tore great gaps in the ad-
vancing tide but they might as well have tried to
dig a hole in the ocean. The gaps immediately
filled up and the Neptunians trampled over their
dead as they rushed savagely on.
Dutch was appalled. There was nothing refined
about this carnage he had instigated, yet it was
more effective than he had anticipated.
The green lights had blinked out and the ex-king
knew that the Martians had turned off their death
rays and were concentrating upon their guns.
The Neptunians gained the door and attempted
to enter. But the Martians had hastily mounted
one of the three inch guns just inside and now it
went into action. Although they could not get the
door closed against the three Neptunians who held
it open, they could defend the opening. The gun
tore a great hole in the advancing column. Almost
instantly the Neptunians closed in and continued
forward but the gun spoke again and another gap
appeared as if by magic. Again the attackers
closed in. But they were nearer to the door and
now two of them got in before the next shell tore
through the ranks. The gun suddenly went dead
and the horde surged into the flyer. One by one
the guns became silent. Dutch imagined the feast
that was under way behind the steel shell of the
space flyer.
All’s Quiet
T he hubbub subsided and Dutch recovered
himself. He decided that it was safe for him
to take the situation in hand and assume the glory.
He bounded down the hill and ran through the
valleys among the hills. Quickly he forded the
river and then gasped up the other slope. At last
he gained the plateau, just as the triumphant Nep-
tunians were coming out of the ship, gnawing
bones and bellowing triumphantly. Dutch ran up
to them and commanded their attention with a
wave of his scepter.
“Where are Meebroo and Grroo?” he asked.
“Dead,” one of the Neptunians bellowed.
A great peace came over Dutch. Indeed, the
battle had been a greater success than he had
dared anticipate. He reveled in his good fortune
for a moment and then bethought himself of his
duties.
“These terrible men of Mars came to make
^aves of you,” he bellowed boastfully, “but I have
delivered you. I have saved you the trouble of be-
ing slaves, I've come to make a great nation out
of this. We’re going to dig radium and help the
Earthians get around faster. Look at me; I hold
the red light and show you how to keep out of
slavery. I am king. . a great king!”
'The victors were deeply impressed. They grov-
elled before their benevolent king. They tried in
every way to show their appreciation.
“Now,” ordered the king, “roll this ship into the
lake.”
A thousand willing shoulders pushed on the steel
flyer and rolled it to the crest of the slope. An-
other shove and the sphere rolled down the slope,
gathering momentum until it hurtled out over the
lake and broke the surface with a tremendous
splash. Slowly it sank amid a gi'eat confusion of
boiling foam and bubbles.
“Now,” the monarch commanded, “pick up all
the bones and throw ’em into the lake.”
This was done with much groveling and at-
tempts to please.
“Now pick up your own dead and beat it,” he
ordered.
When the vast procession had clattered into the
jungle to another orgy of dance and feast in the
grotto, the king selected a rock on which he sat
down to rest and congratulate himself.
Many “sleeps” went by and the satiated mons-
ters returned to do homage to their king. And
the king taught them many things.
At last Dana returned with his fleet. Twenty
doughnut shaped flyers broke through the black
cloud canopy and fluttered gently to the ground.
A steel door in the flagship banged open and Dana
himself ran out. He shook hands with the mon-
arch of Neptune.
“It’s good to see you again,” he greeted. “I
have worried about you ever since we left. Did
you have trouble?”
“Not a bit,” said the king. To prove it he waved
his scepter three times and fifty thousand mons-
ters drew into line and bowed until their foreheads
touched the ground.
Dana was impressed.
“Did you see anything of a ship from Mars?” he
asked presently.
“No,” said the king. “Why?”
“Nothing, only they had a big jail break there
and the escaped prisoners stole a space flyer. I
thought that they might come here since every
planet has been warned by radio to watch for
them. There is a little matter of a hundred thous-
and dollars reward for their capture.”
The king staggered a moment and then looked
out over the placid lake. Then the king became
placid. “Oh, well, I couldn’t spend it here any-
way,” he muttered.
“Beg pardon,” said Dana, “I didn’t catch that.”
“I. .1 asked you if you brought my smokes,”
Dutch started.
“There are a hundred thousand cigarettes in
number two ship.”
“Oh boy! Lead me to ’em. Gee, everything
that I try to do turns out big and fine! Let’s go!”
THE END.
By R. Crossley Arnold
///.
V//A
////
5 ^^
V/Z/y /yy
{Illustration by Miller)
On each table lay a glass case; in each lay an Egyptian, with elixir in his blood. They
had been sleeping for centuries.
106
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
I SAT complacently reading in my study, heed-
less of the storm raging outdoors. My butler
had retired more than an hour before. The
clock on the mantel was striking the half hour.
Glancing up I saw that it was eleven-thirty; I
had to leave for London the next morning at six.
I put down the medical journal I had been
reading and arose from the deeply-cushioned
chair. And at that moment the
phone bell in the hall rang
sharply.
I am a physician by profes-
sion and I certainly was not
particularly eager to be called
out on such a night as this.
Reluctantly I crossed the hall
to the phone. The flash of
the lightning and the crash of
the thunder were terrible.
Taking up the receiver I
gave the usual “ello”. The
voice on the phone startled
me. It was the voice of Al-
fred Stewart, a very dear
friend of mine, whom I had
supposed until that moment to
be in Egypt.
“Al,” I said, “when in thun-
der did you get back? And
why have you
waited until now to
tell me!”
“Sorry old man, I
ju” — crash!, a bolt
of thunder topped
our conversation
momentarily.
“As I was say-
ing,” he resumed,
“I just arrived an
hour ago ; you’re
the first to know
that I’m back.”
“Yes, Al,” I
said, “but I can
hardly hear you for
the static interfer-
ence.”
“Donald, for
God’s sake! I am
not paying social
respects, I want to
see you immediate-
ly. I came all the
way from Egypt to
talk with you.
You’ll have to come to my apartments immediate-
ly at 117 St.”
“But, good Lord, Al, I can’t now, you see — ”
but he had already hung up.
I was, at first inclined to think he was well,
a little “off”, but his tone was urgent, serious,
pleading. I rebelled at going two miles on a wild
night like this, but somehow I knew I had to, and
that I would.
I put on a storm coat and rubbers and swallow-
ed a whiskey and soda. Putting on my cap I
descended to the street. It was wild and desert-
ed, the street looking like a canal. I proceeded
upstreet, the wind whipping the rain in my face.
I was filled with resentment toward Alfred Stew-
art.
After covering half the distance on foot, I fin-
ally managed to hail a cab. Arriving at 117
St., I paid the driver and proceeded up to the
door. I delivered a series of hard knocl^. The
door opened and before me stood my handsome
friend in a smart smoking jack-
et and finely pressed trousers.
My manner was exceedingly
brusque, not the customary at-
titude in which to greet a long
absent friend.
“Al”, I said, “why on earth
must you play me a trick like
this; what have I done to de-
serve it?” My mood was slow-
ly softening under his presence.
He laughed lightly and took
my coat and cap. Coming
back to the room he offered me
cigarettes. Lighting one him-
self he started to pace before
the fireplace. He seemed und-
er a high nervous tension.
I eyed him closely. He
seemed the same old Al in all
but one respect; the happy
carefree look was
gone.
He stopped his
pacing and drew
up a chair close to
mine. His hands
fidgeted nervously
with a magazine.
“Donald, I don’t
know where to be-
gin. It all isn’t
clear yet even in
my own mind. My
God! it’s terrible,
impossible.”
“I say Al, how
about informing me
as to why I was
called here tonight.
Really, I should
like to know.”
“Donald, you
will gain more ter-
rible information
from me this night
than in all the oth-
er nights you have
ever lived. In the first place, I could confide to
no one else what I am about to tell you. If I did
I would be considered crazy or called an abomin-
able liar. Of course there are others who know
of what I am about to relate to you but they are
in Egypt, ever watchful. They are not in Eng-
land.
“Listen and I will tell you the most incredible
story you have ever heard, so impossible that
sometimes I think I’m in some weird fantastic
dream. But first, Don, old man, pledge me your
assistance in this terrible deal. If you ever
R. CROSSLEY ARNOLD
I T is a well known fact that ancient Eg^t was
one of the original centers of civilization, and
that much of our knowledge of the physical uni-
verse we owe to the Egyptians.
But many secrets that the Egyptians possessed
are still mysterious to us — for example their meth-
od of preserving their dead for five thousand years,
the method that they used to build their gigantic
pyramids, etc. And it is quite possiUe that many
more powers of nature were known to Egyptian
scientists and perished with them.
Suppose it were possible for us occidentals to
penetrate into the heart of the scientific knowledge
possessed by the Egyptians. What marvelous things
we might find! For example, it is not a far fetched
conclusion that if they knew how to preserve their
dead against corruption, they might have known
how to preserve their living people against death.
This is the theme that our author takes, and we
must say that he has an astounding knowledge of
his subject, and is able with it to give ns a fast-
moving and thrilling story.
107
108
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
wanted to help your fellow man, now’s your
time.”
I hereby set down as correctly as I can Alfred
Stewart’s story of his terrible discoveries.
An Unexpected Meeting
1 WILL go back two years (Stewart began)
back to a certain night I’m sure you remember
well. That evening, not long before I left Eng-
land, we were discussing a topic familiar to you,
microbiology. We were discussing, I believe, a
certain bacillus, and its relation to domestic ani-
mals and man. A scientist at that time told of
the terrifying results of a newly discovered poi-
son, a product of “a certain bacillus,” so powerful
that a tiny spoonful would bring swift death to a
million people.
Well, I mentioned to you the terrible results
that would follow the spread of such a bacillus.
Little did I realize that night that I was destined
to make the terrible discoveries I have. Thank
God, however, that I came across them when I
did, though I am as yet unable to do anything
to remedy the terrible situation as it exists.
That night, walking home, I kept thinking of
this bacillus, though I don’t know why, for I’m
an archaeologist, not a biologist. Arriving home,
I proceeded to my studJ^ Pulling down a book
dealing with the lower forms of life, I let it fall
open as I sank in my chair. The place at which
it fell open caused me no thought then, but many
times since I have thought of it. That passage
described bacilli that might appear apparently
lifeless and inert, but when exposed to certain
favorable conditions became active and resumed
their normal life functions.
A week later while glancing through an eve-
ning papfer I saw a Cairo dispatch headline that
immediately claimed my attention.
Doctors Puzzled by New Mysterious Disease
Lungs and Eyes of Natives Affected
All Cases Prove Fatal
This headline strangely affected me. Ordin-
arily I would have paid no attention to it, but my
mind had been dwelling on such things for the
past week and this news somehow fascinated me.
Returning home I read through the entire ar-
ticle. It seems that the mysterious malady had
seized some of a group of Egyptian natives who
had just returned from an archaeological expe-
dition. Only five natives were affected. Over
a hundred men had worked for the expedition
and only five had been stricken. Government
inquiries proved that the natives who were strick-
en had lived under the same conditions as those
who were not affected.
Shortly after this I had occasion to go to Paris.
While there I went with a friend to the Louvre to
see some recent additions in the Assyrian and
Egyptian rooms. While we were examining a
rather peculiar mummy we made a chance ac-
quaintance with a merry little fellow. He was
an Egyptologist and very enthusiastic. On learn-
ing we were archaeologists of a sort he was be-
side himself with delight. He talked English
fairly well but when he became excited he di-
verged off into French. His name we found to
be Dr. Paul Peri.
We wandered to different exhibits as we talk-
ed. It seems that Dr. Peri was very indignant
with certain of our foremost Egyptologists. He
had written a paper on the biological knowledge
of the ancient Egyptians, a paper which had
caused considerable unfavorable comment.
As we talked we wandered back to where we
had met and I called Dr. Peri’s attention to the
peculiar mummy case. It did not follow the pat-
tern of the period and the hands on the case held
a scroll. Below the arms of the case were fig-
ures that were not, as far as I could see, accord-
ing to the usual Egyptian manner. There were
several figures apparently in a temple. One
carried something that looked like a chemist’s
test tube. Two other figures were standing be-
fore a table on which lay the body of another
person apparently dead, but the scene portrayed
wasn’t one of embalming. Specialists of the
museum could not give a satisfactory answer for
the figures.
I asked Dr. Peri what he thought about it, and
he immediately said it was a scene in some un-
known Egyptian laboratory. Upon questioning
him further he admitted he couldn’t give a really
plausible explanation.
As we left. Dr. Peri invited us to his apartment
for dinner. Having nothing else to do, we ac-
cepted. After dinner, as we sat with our wine
and cigars our conversation started along scien-
tific lines once more. While Dr. Peri was show-
ing us some of his rare and curious objects, he
popped a question that came like a thunderbolt
out of a clear sky. He asked us to join him in a
trip to Egypt. We both said it would be impos-
sible, but my friend double-crossed me by telling
Dr. Peri I had nothing to do but follow my arch-
aeological pursuits and that I had more money
than brains, anyway. As a result was that Dr.
Peri concentrated all his efforts on me. When I
left his house I was booked to sail for Egypt with-
in the fortnight.
Without bothering you with details we will pro-
ceed to Egypt. We did not stay at Alexandria
but moved up to Cairo immediately. It took us
nearly a week to arrange our affairs and to get
our ecjuipment in readiness. Dr. Peri wished to
start immediately for certain “step-pyramids.”
While in Cairo I made inquiries about the five
unfortunate natives and learned that all had died
under most peculiar circumstances. I also
learned something else that did not help my peace
of mind; the natives who had died had been
with an expedition that was working in the very
place to which we were going. Somehow I did
not like the place, though I had never been there.
Finally, the last of our equipment arrived and
we organized our expedition. From the sur-
rounding district we hired ten Arab and Egypt-
ian “boys” who had all been with archaeological
expeditions before and were experienced in this
work.
When we finally set out I had a feeling, or
rather a premonition of making much more than
solely archaeological discoveries.
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
109
CHAPTER II
Forebodings of Evil
O N THE second day I happened to notice
three of the Egyptians conversing together.
To this I paid no attention whatever until I acci-
dentally caught certain words. The men were
of course not speaking in English, but I under-
stood enough of their dialect to grasp what they
were saying. What I heard was this, “evil place,
many die, camel die, too, ah, evil.”
I passed on without indicating I had overheard
them. But the conversation troubled me for
superstitions among the men are apt to break
their morale.
The next day I called one of the three to my
tent. He was suspicious but I allayed his fears.
After talking with him for a while about our
equipment I fired a question at him quite unex-
pectedly. “Of what were you talking last night,
of evil places and many dying?”
He appeared flustered at first but regaining
his composure he looked straight at me and re-
plied,
“It is true master, many die. The government
knows not or lays the death to other things. But
the Gods are angry with desecration of sacred
things. It is an evil place.”
“What,” I said, “is an evil place, this?”
“No master, the tombs to which we go.”
“How, what, what’s that? Say, man, what
are you talking about.
“It is not wise to go to the tombs now. The
dead are angry.”
“Enough of this! Go back to your tent and
keep your mouth shut on such matters hereafter.”
ITie man looked defiant for a moment but he
turned and went out. A new problem faced me.
Ideas such as his might turn out very harmful.
More than one archaeological expedition had fail-
ed because of increasing fears of the natives. I
determined to take the matter in hand immed-
iately.
I first thought of calling Dr. Peri’s attention
to the trouble we faced but knowing how ex-
citable he was I decided to deal with the men
myself ; and the quicker the better.
I sent our tent boy to gather the men together.
When they were assembled in front of my tent I
stepped out before them.
“Every one here,” I snapped. Being answered
in the affirmative I continued, talking to the
Egyptians first. “You men were hired to assist
in this expedition. You knew where you were
going. You accepted. Is this the first time you
ever visited a tomb? You willingly accepted the
advanced pay. You have been well treated so
far. Now, when we near our destination you
shirk! You let your superstitions overcome you.
You would like to go back now and leave the
expedition stranded here. No! by all the Gods
you ever gave fancy to, you're going to stay here.
The first man I catch doing what he shouldn’t
will be dealt with very severely.” I fingered my
automatic as I spoke these last lines.
I told the same thing to the Arabs and then
dismissed them. I had seen surprise written on
some faces, but now they all knew where they
stood. Some men would have thought my meth-
ods unwise and would have tried diplomacy. But
to my mind such cases need a firm hand.
That evening old Dr. Peri asked me if every-
thing was satisfactory and I nodded so enthusias-
tically that the old duffer returned to his tent
beaming. The next evening just before sundown
we came in sight of our destination. It was
growing too dark to proceed further so we struck
camp immediately.
After dinner I lit my pipe and walked out of
my tent. It was cool and above me tiie sky glis-
tened with myriad jewels. It was a clear night
such as one finds only in a desert. I walked
about two hundred yards past our camp and
looked back. Some of the men were seated
around a low fire. A light shown in Dr. Peri’s
tent where no doubt he was busy with his notes.
Then I glanced off to the west at the silhouet-
tes of the “step pyramids” where we were going.
There they stood — mute symbols to man’s vanity.
Four or five thousand years ago the men that
built them ruled this land. Their names were
known in all the civilized countries of their time.
Their word was law, their armies maneuvered on
this very desert. 'To their subjects they were
gods. They caused these tombs to be built for
them ; temples, obelisks and great stone tablets,
thinking their glory would live after them. True
it has, in a sense, but in a manner quite different
than the old kings of Egypt imagined. Their
kingdoms have passed through many hands
since they have gone. Their bodies lie shrunken
or falling into dust, the work of their magical
embalmers losing its battle with time.
Although I respect the advances made in civi-
lization by the ancient Egyptians, I could not help
but think of the vanity of their ideas about them-
selves.
As these thoughts ran through my mind, I for-
got all about the desert and my surroundings. In-
creasing chilliness brought me back to earth. I
buttoned up my jacket and started to turn back.
But as I did I saw something that caused the
pounding of my heart to quicken.
The Mysterious Light
A S I turned I was facing the tombs across the
desert, and as I looked I saw a light, a weird
glowing phosphorescent light. I stood rigid and
watched it. It moved! It seemed to travel a
few feet above the ground toward one of the
pyramids.
Suddenly it went out as though extinguished;
and I gazed at darkness. Though I was cold, I
began to sweat and I started to run for the camp.
When I was almost there I ceased running and
started to think. What could I say? I could
not let the men know I had been frightened by a
weird light and Dr. Peri would think I carried a
flask of spirited brandy. After all, I thought,
there was probably a plausible explanation to
that strange sight.
Walking over to Dr. Peri’s tent where a light
was still burning inside, I looked in. The old dod-
ger was writing as though his life depended on it.
He never saw me and I dropped the flap door
110
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
and went around to where some of the men were
still sitting.
I called our tent boy to me and inquired if any
of the men had left the camp in the last hour.
He shook his head. No one had left the camp
all evening except myself. I walked away in
deep thought. Then what was the meaning of
that light? I felt sure that someone carried it,
but who! No one in our camp, and there had
been no other people here that I knew of since
that last expedition had returned.
I entered my tent in a troubled state of mind
and then suddenly remembered my workman’s
sinister account of the place. I did not sleep
well that night, being troubled by strange
dreams,
I awoke the next morning little refreshed for
the day ahead of me. While dressing, the inci-
dent of the night before ran through my mind
and with it, the Egyptian’s words, “it is evil
place, many die there.’’
When I completed my toilet I went to Peri’s
tent. He gave me a cheery greeting and then
noticed my haggard appearance.
“Aha! You did not sleep so well. In love?’’
“No,” I laughed, “not hardly; just didn’t feel
so well,”
“You would like the tonic, yes?”
“No, no tonic. I’Jl be all right soon,”
“Well, sir, it’s your disease not mine, but re-
member we have much work for today.”
After we had breakfasted I returned to my
own tent to arrange things for the day. We had
decided upon moving ahead immediately to
where we were to establish our permanent camp
during our investigations. I had to always hand-
le our equipment and its movement myself as Dr.
Peri would only be in the way.
Along about ten in the morning everything
was ready to move. Coming up to what we
thought was a desirable and convenient place,
we decided to make our camp there. In the ear-
ly forenoon one can be active but around one
o’clock the heat grows intense. I, however, kept
the men going until we had completed the laying
out of the camp-, with the exception of a few min-
or details.
After satisfying myself that everything was
all right I walked over to Dr. Peri. “Well Doc,
we settled down in good time, don’t you think?”
Peri nodded. Then I put a sudden question.
“Dr. Peri,” I said, “what do you think was
really wrong with the five men stricken by that
peculiar malady?”
“Bah ! put no belief in the malady, they work-
ed under bad conditions no doubt.”
I said no more but walked toward the objects
or our research. Although I had not been in this
place before I was familiar with the order. I had
gone up the river to Memphis, where in Gizeh I
had explored around the pyramids of the Old
Kingdom Royalty.
The pyramids are surrounded by the so-called
mastaba tombs of nobles and officials. The word
mastaba is Arabic and means bench, and it well
describes the flat-topped, steep-sided super-struc-
tures of these tombs. Within the ma^aba is a
chapel, this being sometimes expanded into a ser-
ies of rooms. Here the priests raised prayers to
the gods and here food offerings were left. The
dead themselves however lay in sarcophagi far
underground, in chambers reached by shafts as
much as a hundred feet deep.
Our camp lay just east of one of these masta-
bas. As I walked around I found that our pre-
decessors had camped to the southwest of a
mastaba on the other side of the p^amid. That
they had departed hastily was quite evident. I
completed my tour and returned to our camp.
Dr. Peri was not in sight and the men were
idling around. But though they had nothing to
do, I thought the absence of merriment among
them was strange. I called Ali, the tent boy and
told him to prepare my shaving outfit. He too,
though usually quite cheerful looked very som-
bre.
After finishing shaving, and when I had com-
pleted some notes, I lit a pipe and stood in the
door of my tent. The sun was sinking low in
the sky. As I looked across at the tombs I had
an uneasy feeling, as if I were being watched by
someone or something. None of the men were
in sight and Dr. Peri was in his tent no doubt. I
knocked out my pipe and walked over to his tent.
CHAPTER III
An Alarming Statement
G oing into his tent I found that he was out
and as I stepped oiit, one of the Arabs
passed by. I stopped him and asked him if he
had seen the Doctor, The Doctor went to look
over the tombs soon after I did the man said and
had not returned yet, I wondered that I had
not seen him and started back towards the tombs.
I had gone half the distance around when I saw
him, on the southwest side. He was on his knees
with a large reading glass in his hands.
“Hello, Doc, studying geology?” He started
and looked up but seeing me resumed his work.
“What's up,” I resumed, “lose a valuable?”
“No, — am becoming interested in biology.”
“Oh.”
He rose to his feet, pocketed his glass and
mopped his brow. “Stewart,” he said, “do you
notice anything queer here?”
“Why, why no, not exactly.”
“Well, I do.”
“What?” I asked trying hard to appear calm.
“In the tent, I will tell,” he said strangely.
As we walked back towards the camp my
pulse-beat quickened with excitement. What!
I thought, had the Doctor seen the mysterious
light too? In silence we walked straight to Dr.
Peri’s tent. Inside, I sat down and began fan-
ning myself, as Dr. Peri put away his glass. His
movements struck me as peculiar, they seemed
so deliberate. I watched him and finally he
came over to me and sat down on a camp stool.
“Mr. Stewart, you have seen nothing peculiar,
nothing?”
“Well yes I , no now, I have not either,
come to think.”
“You are sure then?”
“Yes, quite sure.”
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
111
“Ah, my friend, you are not what you would
call observant.”
"And why?”
“Were you ever in these desert before?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, good, then I presume you are familiar
with some of its conditions, yes?”
“Why yes, I know something about the desert.”
“Marvelous, my friend, now we are getting
some place. In the desert it is what you call
peculiar. Different from the other places. For
instance, there is much stillness.”
“Doctor, I don’t quite comprehend.”
“I said, in a desert there is much stillness, but
not all is stillness ; even in the barren desert there
is some action, animal action.”
“Still Doctor I don’t see.”
“In all deserts there is some life, but here there
is none.”
“Say that again!” I rose to my feet excited.
He motioned me to my chair.
"Please, it is peculiar, here we find no life but
ourselves. My friend, sometimes you have the
thick skull. Listen, I will say so even you will
comprehend. After I was here but a very short
while I noticed a funny thing. A peculiar still-
ness, nothing is astir. I look further and lo and
behold I find no animal life. It seems funny, so
I investigate and find I am right. These place
has no animal life excepting that of our expedi-
tion. Not even the insect.”
“But what is the reason for this, do you fear
something?”
“I did not say we should fear something, just
want to call your attention to this peculiar phen-
omena.”
“Doctor I think there is something sinister
about this place,” I confessed finally.
“Come now, come, we will have dinner and
retire early.”
Trouble Comes in a Strange Form
T hat night I tossed in my sleep uneasily.
Strange and fantastic ideas entered my
mind. Again I experienced that peculiar and
unpleasant feeling that something watched me,
watching and waiting. I awoke next morning
with a troublesome headache. I felt “all in”, and
my brain seemed dull. I took some tablets and
dressed. As I was straightening my cot Dr.
Peri entered.
“Good morning, my friend, you look ill.”
“Sore jour Doctor, I feel as bad as I look.”
"Beaux yeux, ar! the ladies’ man is lonely.”
“Don’t be absurd!”
“Oh well, pardon my jests. Come to my tent,
I will give you the tonic.”
“Devil take the tonic.”
“Siere. Breakfast in one half hour, then you
work.”
I felt so badly I took hardly any food, and I
did not feel very much like outlining and organ-
izing our work. However, Dr. Peri and I went
out and instructed the men as to the first steps to
be taken. Then accompanied by two men we
proceeded to the tombs. Dr. Peri had pretty
well in mind the outline of our work for he
thought he could find material at these tombs to
back up some of his theories. He therefore in-
tended working on every mastaba in the locality
besides the pyramids.
We reached the mastaba on the northeast
where Peri had decided we should start.
This one had not been touched by other arch-
aeologists and looked a promising prospect.
After two hours survey we found that it would
take a few days to gain entrance.
Going back to the camp I suggested tp Peri
that we might work over the other mastabas.
But he shook his head, deeming it wiser to stick
to one at a time.
The next three days were spent in hard work
under a blazing sun. We made good progress
though, and by the end of the third day after
commencing tlm work we had all the debris clear-
ed away. During this time I saw or heard noth-
ing unusual and my peculiar feeling left me.
Moreover the men were now taking a heart in
the work.
That night, however, the peace we were eoi-
joying was rudely disturbed for at about ten
o’clock one of the Arabs came running into my
tent.
“Master! — ^the camels, someone is among
them.”
“Who?”
“I could not see well, but Ahmet he sees too.”
I picked up my “Savage” and ran out of the tent
toward the camels. Some of the men followed
me and I told one to get Dr. Peri. When I reach-
ed the camels I couldn’t see anyone or anything
in sight. One Arab carried a brand and I held it
up, but it revealed nothing. The camels ap-
peared to be very agitated however.
Dr. Peri came running up flushed with excite-
ment.
“What — what ees happen?”
“Oh nothing, some cursed jackel or something
has frightened the camels.”
“Jackal, here? No, no my friend, no jackal.”
“Oh well, whatever it was, it’s gone. No use
waiting here.”
As we returned. Peri followed me to my tent.
Inside he looked around as though he expected
to see something. Then he came and stood be-
fore me.
“My friend you were right, these ees a sinister
place. Last night I walk out of my tent toward
tombs, all at once I see — ”
“You saw a weird, phosphorescent like light?”
He appeared surprised. “How did you
know?” he asked.
“I saw it myself on the eve of our arrival here,
but I said nothing thinking you would ridicule
me.”
“My friend something ve^ mysterious, devil-
ish lies behind that light, its bearer disturbed
our camels, not a jackal.”
“My God, Peri, what is it! Who or what
would be carrying a light among tombs and for
what purpose.”
“Ah my friend, as in everything else, there is
much to be learned, but tomorrow we will look
at other mastabas.”
Again a night of fitful restlessness, of fantas-
tic dreams and fantasies. The next morning I
again had a bad headache and I realized if I kept
112
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
losing my sleep I would ruin my health. I
dressed myself wearily and rubbing a hand across
my face I felt a stubby growth of beard. For
the past two or three days I had been too busy
to shave and now I was too weary.
At breakfast I found that Dr. Peri had laid
out the plans for the examination of the other
tombs.
“We will examine each mastaba in its turn,
maybe we find something, maybe we don't.”
It was mid-aftemoon when we came to the
mastaba on the southeast. It was here that the
last expedition had worked. In view of the fact
that the other expedition had worked here so
recently, I was surprised to find so much debris
around. We searched about for an hour but saw
nothing unusual except that it did not look as
though an expedition had been working there
recently. I remarked about this to Peri who also
thought it odd.
When we finally came back to camp it was
growing dusk. I was fatigued and wanted
rest. I ate a little dinner and went to my tent.
While putting by some of my tools that I had been
using, I noticed that my dynamo flashlight was
missing. Then I remembered ; it had been in my
kit and not needing it, 1 had laid it aside and for-
gotten it.
I did not wish to leave it there all night, and
being exceedingly tired, I sent one of the Arabs
after giving him a small flashlight to see by.
It was about eight o’clock when I sent him off
and when nine o’clock came and the man had not
returned, 1 became uneasy. I paced back and
forth becoming very agitated. Finally I rushed
out of my tent and seizing an Arab by the neck
I asked if Ahmet was around, for it was he whom
I had sent. The Arab appeared bewildered and
said he was not.
I rushed into Dr. Peri’s tent.
“My God, doctor, a terrible thing must have
happened. I sent Ahmet for my light an hour
and a half ago, and he is not back.”
“My good friend don’t be so excited, he prob-
ably could not find it queekly, so. However we
will look and see.”
As we passed out of the tent I noticed Peri car-
ried a pistol. We called three men and with lan-
terns proceeded to the southwest of the pyramid.
A cold fear gripped me as we approached that
corner. Again I experienced that feeling of be-
ing watched by unseen eyes. The men were
plainly uneasy, casting glances off into the dark-
ness. I gripped Peri’s arm as we came up to the
point where I left my light.
The reflected rays of the moon showed the
place in eerie weirdness. I looked and saw my
flash lying just where I had left it. Nothing else
was in sight. The living, breathing man whom I
had sent for my light had absolutely disappeared,
leaving not a trace. I felt sick ; this tenible thing
was too much.
CHAPTER IV.
Mutiny
A S we returned to camp each one busy with
his own thoughts, that feeling of being
watched grew in me; I felt as if we were all
doomed. When we reached camp the men who
had remained behind gathered excitedly around
their fellows. Paying no attention to them but
walked off with Dr. Peri.
But I knew that trouble was brewing, though
I said not a word to Dr. Peri. As I turned to my
tent he grasped my arm, “Listen my boy,” he said
eagerly, “tomorrow we go back and we will try
to discover mysterious things, yes?”
“All right, old man, as you say,” I replied de-
jectedly. I knew Dr. Peri was trying to keep my
spirits up, though as alarmed as I. In my
tent, I sat on my cot and started to ponder on
the Arab’s mysterious disappearance.
But the more I thought about it, the more im-
possible it seemed. “Where could he have gone?
what could have hap Ah.” I jumped and
slapped my hands together. I had it now, the
answer to several things seemed to come at once.
“The- southwest corner, that’s the damned
place,” I exclaimed aloud.
“Now it all comes to my mind. From that
direction came the light; our camels are closer
to it than any other part of our camp ; there the
fated expedition worked ; and there is where Ah-
met disappeared beyond a doubt.”
I felt like rushing immediately to Dr. Peri and
telling him what I thought, but decided to wait
till morning. So with a feeling akin to triumph
I prepared for bed. I felt sure that on the mor-
row I would find the key to these mysterious
doings. But I could not dispel the feeling of be-
ing watched, however, and it made me uncom-
fortable.
I awoke next morning quite refreshed and in
good spirits. I arose, dressed, washed and
shaved and was leisurely putting by my shaving
outfit when Ali, the tent boy, burst in.
“Master! oh master, come quick, the camels
are dead, all dead and Asad who watched,”
I dropped my kit on the floor. I was stung be-
yond belief but I acted quickly. Wheeling I
seized the frightened lad.
“What talk is this?” I asked him sternly.
“The camels master — ”
“Are all dead eh, well by God I’ll find out what
this game’s all about today or die. Does Dr. Peri
know yet?”
“Yes master, he is coming to your tent.” At
that moment Dr. Peri burst in.
“Mon Dieu, have you heard? All our fine camels
and faithful Asad?”
“Yes, have you seen them?”
“No, but let’s go quickly.”
With Peri tagging after me I ran all the way
to where the camels were. There strewn before
me were our animals and a little way off, Asad,
As Dr. Peri came up, he looked sorrowful, but
said nothing. I was quivering with rage and
despair.
“Who, what did this thing and for what pur-
pose?”
“I know not,” he mumbled. “Come though
and let’s look over the handiwork.” We walked
over to Asad. He lay face down in the sand, his
legs stretched out, one arm doubled under his
body and the other stretched out at right angles
to it. Around him in the sand were no signs of
struggle.
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
113
We turned him over. On his face was no mu-
tilation but an expression that will haunt me to
my dying day. It was terrible, I hope never to see
the like of it again. It was contorted, contorted
with fear. The mouth gaped open, the lips
drawn over the teeth. The nostrils were wid-
ened, and the eyes, my God, those eyes, how they
stared in unspeakable horror. We examined him
thoroughly and no mark of violence or poisoning
did we find. He had died of terror.
The camels we found to be poisoned. On the
hind quarter of one I found a small wound. Ex-
amining the rest, I found similar punctures at
the same place. A hypodermic needle, I an-
nounced.
Peri nodded but believed that it must have
been a very thick needle. I turned to look at the
bodies again and then turned to the men.
“Bear Asad back to my tent and bury these
camels.”
The men did not move but stood and looked at
me.
“Did you hear me? Obey.” A tall Arab
stepped out and in even tones said, “No more will
we obey you, infidel, no more.”
He turned and addressed the others.
“Too long have we listened to unbelieving
dogs. Long since should we have gone back.
Two are now taken for disobedience, wilt thou
waif longer?”
A murmur ran through the men. The Egyp-
tians were not sons of Allah but they feared the
vengeance of the dead kings whom they still re-
vered and they joined the Arabs against us.
Mutiny was breaking out at last. Dr. Peri im-
mediately became flustered and started stammer-
ing to the men. I told him to be still and stepped
out a pace. I began in tones as even as those of
the Arab.
“No doubt you fully remember my warning to
deserters; it still is a warning for deserters. In
no way are we to blame for these happenings;
we shall punish the offenders as we find them.
You men, however, remain till we dismiss you.
Furthermore, any participating in further mutin-
ous outbursts will be turned over to the authori-
ties on our return, with no further pay.”
The spokesman became furious.
“Christian swine, you will never return.”
He and two others stepped quickly towards us,
knives drawn. They meant business. I stepped
back very quickly.
Crack — crack — my automatic spoke twice and
the leader lay in the sand, two bullets through
him.
The other two stopped and stood as statues.
Dr. Peri was swept off his feet by the turn of
events. I told him to stay by me and keep "his
mouth shut. The men drew off in a group talk-
ing excitedly. Covering them with the gun I
walked over to them.
“Any one else wish to leave camp?”
I received no answer.
“Very well, every one wishes to stay, good.
Now! You have your orders! Obey them.”
I sent Dr. Peri and Ali back to camp and then
stood over the men, till they picked up the two
bodies and bore them back to camp. I then per-
sonally supervised the burying of the camels.
When back in camp I told the men to go about
their respective duties till further notice. I then
went to Dr. Peri’s tent.
When I entered the poor fellow nearly fell
down. His work had been comparatively quiet
that in all his life he never came across trouble
such as this.
“Forced to kill our own men,” he moaned,
“Mon Dieu, what is next.”
“Quiet yourself. Doctor. It is not our fault. I
tried to avoid it but it was either them or our-
selves.”
“I know, but this is too terrible, the authori-
ties, what will we say, what can we do?”
“Everything in its time, Doctor, But now we
will get at the bottom of this thing.”
“We can’t now, we will have to go back, be-
sides we are short-handed.”
“No by God! We will see this thing through
even if we two only remain. Further, we will
start things popping right off. Number one, bury
the men, and then start at the bottom of this
thing. Besides,” I added, “I don’t want wind of
this spread all around.”
“As you say my friend, I depend all on your
advice.”
Trapped!
T hat afternoon saw the burial of the two
Arabs. With that completed I busied myself
with preparations for our investigation of the
southwest mastaba. When Ali told me to watch
the men and not to trust them, I took this for good
advice.
The next morn, the dawn of a day I shall never
forget, we started work on the mastaba. The fiery
orb of the sun promised to be merciless and not a
wisp of wind blew in the desert. I worked the
men unceasingly, Ali and I laboring like slaves.
It seemed that, except for the work which we
had done ourselves, the mastaba had not been
touched for hundreds of years. We labored and
sweated and performed engineering feats. With
Ali carrying supplies, six men and ourselves do-
ing the work I think we set a record for accom-
plishment. Although the mastaba was on the
ground, gaining entrance was not easy for part of
the outside had given way and the entrance was
completely covered. I knew then that the other
expedition had not gained entrance to the mas-
taba.
When four o’clock came we finally entered the
mastaba. Going from bright sunlight into pitch
darkness we could not see well even with our
lamps. First I stumbled and hurt my knees.
Then we realized a peculiar fact, though we were
away from the fresh air we encountered no foul
air here ! The mastaba contained fresh air ! This
astounding fact seemed to confirm me in my
strange doubts about the place.
Then as we looked around we found ourselves
in a vestibule. Ahead was the entrance to an-
other chamber into which we passed and found
ourselves in a long narrow room. At the center
of this opened another entrance. These rooms
were entirely bare, even to decorations. As we
114
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
passed into the third chamber, Dr. Peri suddenly
sprawled full length. Turning my lamp on him
I found he had tripped on a small statuette. I
passed my light around the room and found we
were in the tomb chapel, a room about twelve feet
long and nine wide. Here the walls were decor-
ated. Set near the corners were the figures, one
of which Dr. Peri had tripped over. In the cen-
ter were ancient food offerings. An exit was at
the end and this passed into a chamber contain-
ing religious objects used by the priests.
Coming back into the tomb chapel I spoke to
Dr. Peri, “Nothing seems to be unusual here.”
“No, my friend, nothing as yet.”
“Oh well,” I said, “let things come as they may,
I say, though, wonder where the shaft to the bur-
ial chamber is. The door, I suppose, is merged in
with the wall.”
“I think we had better let that go until tomor-
row. What time is it?”
“Only four thirty. I’m going to have a look for
that door,” I said adventurously. “Where do you
suppose it is likely to be?”
“Right here in the chapel itself.”
Taking up a hand pick and using the handle I
started to test the wall. Suddenly I stopped.
“Doc! Come here, I’ve found it.”
“Seems to be, may be false.”
“By George I’m going to take it down today.”
“Better wait, it’s getting late.”
“Oh no, call in the men.”
The six came into the tomb chapel.
“Where’s Ali?”
“To camp for water.”
“Well now,” I said, “I want you to chisel around
here where I mark.”
They began and with myself doing the delicate
work we soon were deep into the red sandstone.
Dr. Peri was nervous but he finally joined us.
“Be careful, Stewart, don’t spoil that work.”
Suddenly I decided to quit work for the day,
and told the men they might stop. We were all
still standing in the chapel when, as I was stoop-
ing to pick up my helmet, I swung the head of
the pick against the wall.
“Careful, Stewart, you’ll ”
The words were cut short in his mouth and we
started back. There before our amazed eyes a
part of the wall, as if it were a door, revealing
intense darkness.
“A secret door,” I gasped ; “I must have struck
some secret panel in the wall with the pick.”
We turned the rays of our lights into the open-
ing, but they revealed nothing.
“I’m going in,” I announced determinedly.
“Careful, boy, careful.”
I passed in. Dr. Peri following me. Once inside
we were better able to see. The room seemed about
the size of the tomb chapel.
Suddenly Peri shouted.
“Here, here is the shaft!”
I was at one end of the room and as I turned
I sprawled again. My light flew from my grasp
but I regained it and turned the rays on what I
had fallen over.
“Why, here’s the shaft,” I said.
“What did you say?” said Peri coming over.
“Here’s the shaft.”
“No, it’s over there.”
I stood up and looked at Peri and then we look-
ed at the floor and cried in amazement. There
were two shafts !
We examined them and found one in much bet-
ter condition than the other.
“Damned strange, I wonder
Click!
W’e turned and to our horror found the entrance
was closed!
CHAPTER V
The Mystery Reveals Itself in Part
«WHAT devil’s game is this?”
VV Dr. Peri walked over to the door. Sudden-
ly he exclaimed, “Mon Dieu! Come here, listen.”
I moved closer and then stood aghast.
From the tomb chapel came curses and cries
of terror from the men. Finally there was
coughing and then silence. Not another sound
came from the tomb chapel.
I stood trembling from head to foot, horror
stricken.
“Lord, Peri, what’s happened in there?”
Peri stood still and silent gazing at the place
we had come in by.
“My son,” he said slowly, “I deeply regret hav-
ing brought you into this terrible thing. I don’t
think we shall ever see daylight alive.”
“Doctor, do you think some outlaw gang has
taken possession of these tombs?”
“I fear something worse.”
“Worse?”
“Come, my son, let’s examine this chamber. I
fear our men have gone as the rest.”
As we started to examine the chamber I felt
more strongly than ever the feeling of being
watched. The chamber revealed nothing and we
finally drew towards the two shafts.
“These shafts, why two?” I said, “and why is
it that one appears much less dilapidated?”
“I know not.”
“I wonder if we can get the cover off these
shafts?”
“I think,” said Dr. Peri, “if that’s what you
want, we could divert our attention to this appar-
ently neglected one.”
I went down on my hands and knees.
“I wonder if there is another button around
here.”
“No, but here is a ring.”
“Hmm, doesn’t seem attached to anything on
the cover. Shall we pull on it?”
“And why not?”
We grasped it and gave it a good jerk and sim-
ultaneously up flew the cover.
I was surprised at the ease with which it came
up for it was a massive thing. We still had our
revolvers and we instinctively clutched them. Then
we trained our lights down the opening.
Down before us stretched a flight of steps that
lost themselves in the darkness.
“Doctor Peri. Should we venture down?”
“And why not?”
“All right, I’m ready.”
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
115
When we started down I took out my pistol.
The stairs seemed without end. Down, down,
down we went. The blackness surrounding us was
complete. In the deathly silence our footsteps
echoed hollowly around us.
“I say, the air is quite fresh. This is very
peculiar. Fresh air in a place like this.”
Finally we reached the bottom. The stairs
seemed to end in a small room, and looking around
I saw an entrance or exit at one end. I moved to-
ward it. Dr. Peri following right behind me. The
opening was quite wide. I turned to Peri and was
about to speak when we heard a distant click.
“The cover!” I cried, springing towards the
stairs.
Peri, however, held me back.
“Its no use, Stewart.”
“Oh, the fools we are, to be trapped twice.”
“What difference does it make?” Peri said.
“We were surely trapped above by the first one.”
“But,” I protested, “above we knew where we
were, and Ali might have helped us.”
“Ha, do you think any one could come near this
place and live if they were wanted dead?”
“\^at do you mean?”
“When I said you had a thick skull I was right.
Do you think ail these happenings are coinci-
dences? No, some superior intelligence is at
work, it can see everything.”
“But why is a harmless expedition attacked
so?”
“Who knows? Let’s go into this chamber.”
We cautiously went in and found ourselves in
a room apparently larger than in which we had
yet been. Suddenly Click.
“Again,” I moaned in despair.
“Evidently we are not intended to escape,” said
Peri, turning to the last closed entrance.
This time we were not left long to speculate.
Around us burst a phosphorescent glow. We stood
in a circle about ten feet in diameter, entirely
lighted by the eerie luminescence. We were per-
fectly illuminated but we could not see beyond
the glow. I clutched Peri’s arm and stood staring
into the darkness.
We heard something move in the darkness and
through the circle of light burst a figure, a figure
that struck us dumb with amazement.
The figure, we beheld, was familiar to us in a
certain sense of the word, familiar because of our
study of Egyptology. It was tall, the body being
very erect. The hips were quite narrow, the
angular shoulders, the broad forehead and statue-
like features would have marked him for an Egyp-
tian anywhere. His dark brown, handsome face
was surmounted by a miter. The rest of his gar-
ments were those of an ancient Egyptian priest.
I was thunderstruck as I looked at him. He
stood five paces from us and with folded arms,
eyes glowing like a cat, surveyed us.
Then we were startled even further, for he be-
gan to speak, in English. All details of his speech
did not reach us then, for we were too thunder-
struck.
“Welcome, welcome to the tombs, abode, and
laboratories of Sais-Amen-Tanis. If you have
been caused inconvenience, pardon, we beg your
pardon.”
Saying this he ceased speaking and looked in-
tently at us. Then he raised his hands, which I
noted were long and slender and heavily decor-
ated with signet and scarab rings, and clapped
once. The sound echoed and reechoed. He then
spoke out in a language which neither Dr. Peri
or I understood. Immediately there appeared a
gigantic black man, with his head shaved, clad in
a lion skin. He was apparently an Ethiopian.
The Egyptian spoke to him and then turned to
us.
“This is Athribis, you will accompany him.”
The black man turned and we followed in a
daze. As we passed out of the chamber into a
sort of corridor the phosphorous light in the
chamber went out and the corridor was lit in its
stead. We followed our silent, stone-like, guide.
Just as we reached the end, a panel swung open
and was passed on through.
Although we had been subjected to startling
experiences ever since our arrival, the sight that
met our eyes superseded all the rest. As we left
the corridor we passed into a terrace, a wide, mar-
ble, terrace. It stretched off to our right and
left for considerable distances where it was joined
by two others at right angles. It went somewhat
further to the left before it turned. All around
as far as I could see were beautiful columns bor-
dering the inner side. Every few yards a foun-
tain played and from between the columns the
peculiar light issued.
But this was only a small part of what we saw.
Beyond the terrace and bordering it as far as
we could see was a channel or moat of water. On
the side of the terrace we were on, a short flight
of broad steps led down to it, and moored to the
last step was a boat, an Egyptian mortuary boat.
Across this moat and hemmed in by it was a
great and very beautiful building. If the water
extended all the way around, and I felt sure it
did, the building was on an island. On the side
facing us, the lower part rose straight up from
the water and offered no admittance from a boat.
“My God I” I exclaimed to Peri, “I am dreaming,
this can’t be.”
He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “No,
my boy, you are not dreaming, we have chanced
on a stupendous discovery. We see things no man
would believe. That person who spoke to us was
an Egyptian, not one of these modem so-called
Egyptians but one of that ancient and noble race.”
Our guide motioned us to follow him and we
went down the steps to the boat and got in. The
craft was a typical mortuary boat on the outside
but altered somewhat inside. Our guide and
guard stood in the rear and grasped a huge steer-
ing rudder. At the front was a small raised deck
and we sat midships on a luxurious divan.
Suddenly without warning we were in motion.
“What’s furnishing the power. Doc?” I inquired.
“I can’t tell,” and then he looked down at the
water and caught my arm, “Look, see, the water’s
in motion.
I looked and sure enough the boat was being
carried along by the water.
116
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
We were going down to the left and when we
came to the turn, the man with a dexterous move-
ment turned the boat sharply. I glanced at the
great structure and saw that there, too, the lower
part offered no mooring to the boat. I then
turned my attention to the terrace to our left.
As I looked, I saw something that made me
jump.
“Look, Peri,” I cried, pointing. Peri looked and
turned pale.
Our Enemy Turns Host
T here on a chain that gave him access back
and forth across the terrace was a huge gor-
illa. The beast was much larger than any I had
seen in life or in pictures. It was a terrifying
monster, and its ferocity seemed proportionate
to its size. It paid no attention to the boat.
“Evidently,” I remarked, “one must not walk
on the terrace.”
As we passed along the water 1 had a feeling
of being removed as far away from the outside
world as one who travels to Mars. The more I
looked at it, the hiore the building seemed a
mighty fortress. It seemed so large and strong
as to appear invincible, but, nevertheless, it was
very beautiful. As we neared the second turn I
glanced up. This whole subterranean wonder was
covered by a white ceiling, made apparently of
marble. I judged the distance from terrace to
the roof to be about sixty feet.
As we turned, my attention was 'claimed by
more astonishing sights. Here the terrace and
moat were more highly illuminated. The build-
ing on this side was provided with the boat land-
ing where steps came down to the water in a semi-
circle. At either end of the semi-circle was an-
other flight of stairs leading to a second floor.
Along the front of the building stretched a marble
veranda and leading up from the building’s ver-
anda to the top were great columns. At the top
of the stairs were two great entrances.
As the boat slid in next to the steps I looked
across at the terrace. There I saw a beautiful
pure-white structure, which covered the width of
the terrace and extended along it for about fifty
feet. From its front, steps led down to the moat.
Our guide motioned us out of the boat. The
water had ceased its motion and I wondered who
controlled it, for evidently it was not our guide.
We went up one of the flights of stairs and as we
reached the head, the door swung open. Passing
into a long curved corridor behind our noiseless
guide, we emerged Into a gorgeously resplendent
room.
By signs our guide made it clear to us that we
were to stay there. The chamber was circular, ex-
cept at the end, at which we stood, and about
forty-five feet in diameter.
As our guide proceeded toward the other side.
Peri and I watched him with deep interest. At
the other side of the room was what appeared to
be a great, black, slab of stone, upon which rested
a glass-topped sarcophagus.
Our guide approached it very reverently and
upon reaching it he dropped to his knees, and
with out-stretched hands, bowed his head to the
floor. He started praying in a strange tongue,
raising his voice now and then. He then arose
and backed away.
Finally he turned to us and motioned us to fol-
low him. We passed down the side of the cham-
ber and into another room, heavily scented with
incense. The walls were hung with tapestries
and the furnishings were those of the most lux-
urious ancient Egyptian. From this we pro-
ceeded to yet another chamber. Here our guide
quickly left us and a panel slid shut behind him.
The chamber we were in was evidently designed
for sleeping. It too, was very luxuriously furn-
ished and hung with tapestries. A pleasing odor
filled the room.
“‘Well, Peri, here we are, still alive.”
“Our position is not a light-hearted week-end
trip, my friend.”
“Ah, Peri, you’re right but we have enough to
think about without worrying.”
“Have you formed any ideas about this place?”
“Well,” I said, “our host or hosts have a sense
of beauty, and as engineers, well, they rank with
the best of today. Houdini, or any one else,
couldn’t escape from here. By Jove, if we came
through one, we came through a dozen of those
doors that open before and close after you.
“Bah, Your ideas. Listen, my poor weak-
minded friend. We are in the hands of people of
super-human intelligence. Who in the wide world
would have conceived such a place ? It’s a fan-
tastic as the Martian stories. But do you realize
the full import of this thing? They, whose hands
we are in, or some of them at least, are people of
Ancient Egypt!”
“Probably descended directly,” I said casually,
“for you surely don’t think they were actually
members of those races of Old Egypt, do you?”
“Must a building fall on you Anglo-Saxons to
make you see things? What I’ve experienced al-
ready would take all scepticism out of me. Be-
sides in my scientific papers I always claimed that
the Egyptians had a great biological knowledge.”
I was just about to answer him when a voice
spoke out.
“Pardon me, gentlemen. Do you find every-
thing comfortable?”
We swung around searching for the voice.
“Do not trouble yourselves as to the origin of
the sound. No doubt you are tired and dusty. In
that room to your left you will find a bath. Ath-
ribis will see to your immediate needs.”
“Well,” I said, “we’re evidently watched. Per-
mit me to bathe.”
We went into the room.
“I say,” I exclaimed, “when I said these chaps
knew luxury and beauty I meant it. Look at that
pool.”
But Peri was examining the pool. It was sit-
uated in the center of the room. From nooks in
the wall issued a peculiar light. Great divans and
dressing tables bordered the sides of the pool.
Dr. Peri stood still and scratched his head.
“Built throughout of serpentine marble.”
“Rather tip-top, what?”
As we climbed up the steps from the bath, the
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
117
voice said, “In your chamber you will find gar-
ments, put them on and wait.”
Coming out we found our clothes had disap-
peared and so had our revolvers. In place of the
clothes we found some Egyptian apparel. As we
were dressing I noticed on a small table, a colored
glass bottle and two glasses.
“I’ll sample this.”
It proved to contain delicious wine.
Dr. Peri was far more interested in the con-
tainer than its contents.
“Stewart, look at this. A master-piece in iri-
descent glass-making. These glasses too, this col-
lection is better than any now known. We will
probably learn of the lost art here.”
“By jove, Doc, you’re right. We’ll probably see
the solution to many puzzling things cleared up,
but we will never tell the world about them.”
I then started to make a detailed inspection of
the room. One part of it was circularly indented.
This indentation also formed the end of the bath.
The rest was fairly square in shape; the only
openings being the one by which we had entered
and the one that led to the bath. The bath was
in reality a walled-off end of the room.
The sleeping couches were gold, chairs and
chests were gold plated. The floor, instead of be-
ing bare, was covered by a heavy rug. A faint
blueish light was diffused over eversrthing.
As I turned to speak to Peri the panel slid open
and the magnificent form of Sais-Amen-Tanis en-
tered, after whom the panel slid shut. He walked
over to us and with folded arms surveyed us.
I noticed that he carried a large flamboyant dag-
ger attached to a girdle.
“Ah, Mr. Stewart, Mid Dr. Peri, did you find
things as you desired?”
“In this building, yes, otherwise, no. What do
you want with us?”
“That, my friend, I cannot tell you now. Still,
it is with a purpose of telling you something that
I have come here. Sit down and listen.”
We complied and the Egyptian sat down also.
Then seated in this strange room with us as his
guests or prisoners, he unfolded a story such as
mortal man has never before heard.
CHAPTER VI.
The Egyptian’s Story
A S you sit before me (he began) a hundred ques-
tions, doubts, and fantasies chase through
your brains. “Who am I? What is this place? What
is the purpose of it?” These and other questions
you ask yourselves. Your curiosity shall be sat-
isfied. Incidentally you will gain more knowledge
of Egypt from what I tell you than you would ever
receive from the desecration of our dead.
It is because you disturbed our tombs and our
work that you are here. I was driven to drastic
methods. Before your arrival another group was
here, but they too, were taken care of. One of
your party has preceded you. He, however, came
in rather handy. I found use for a certain part of
his brain, and his spinal marrow. But do not be-
come alarmed, no such fate awaits you.
I have a place for you in my plans, so fear not
bodily injury. You \rill be well treated and grad-
ually introduced to various objects and plans.
Escape is impossible, as is rescue from the out-
side. I shall now endeavor to tell you who I am
and give you some of my history.
I have said my name was Sais-Amen-Tanis.
That is not my real name but it has served for
twenty-three hundred years and it need only serve
a little longer. Before that I had other names, but
soon, soon after these centuries of waiting I’ll
resume my own.
You men, from your studies, know something
of my country’s history. You will then be better
able to understand what I am about to tell you.
In the year 2866 before your Christ was born, I
first saw the light of day. My father was a high-
priest of Osiris. Our mighty Pharaoh Khafra
ruled Egypt Memphis, the capital, had no rivals.
Khafra ruled during the great fourth dynasty,
the greatest period of the Old Kingdom. As a boy
I watched the construction of Khafra’s great
pyramid, watched it grow up out of the desert
beside the mighty pyramid of Khufu. I have seen
the Sphinx and those great structures im their
glory, surrounded by luxurious gardens and mar-
ble tombs. Nearly five thousand years have pass-
ed, but soon I shall see them again as they were 1
I was taken into the temples at Memphis and
there given the best possible training. I was
taught the ways of the temple, taught the mystic
rites. I was schooled in the sciences and in many
things of which you are ignorant. I soon learned
all that the priests and scribes could teach me. 1
then started to probe into the secrets of nature,
farther than any man had ever gone.
There were certain things the priests knew but
didn’t understand. Those things still escape your
modern scientists. I probed into the very bowels
of these things and after much research, con-
quered them. I had all the temple equipment. I
put some of my discoveries to use and produced a
fluid that accounts for my being here. You know
what metabolism is. After a certain length of
time the process of changing dead organic mat-
ter into live cells and the continuous changing of
the live cells and tissue begins to run down. I
discovered the secret of the duct glands. I pro-
duced cats as large as calves and calves as small
as cats. I wrested the secrets of protoplasm from
defiant nature.
I finally produced a fluid that, if injected into
the blood stream, would keep the body unaltered
for thousands of years. It was to be injected at
the prime of life and the only part of the body to
change would be the brain. This elixir keeps the
endocrine glands functioning exactly as th^ were
in the prime of life, and when mixed with two
others can even change an animal’s appearance.
These things are some of the most important dis-
coveries I made in those far off days.
I made several lesser discoveries but the secret
of the elixir I shared with none. I saw the won-
derful possibilities of the life prolonging fluid and
I inoculated myself. I had two intelligent and
faithful slaves and I inoculated them also. Athri-
bis is one of them.
118
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
A wife of Khafra fell ill and was dying. I cured
her. I immediately gained great favor with Kha-
fra, a favor that I gradually increased. I did not
accept the high positions offered me, for I desired
all my time for experimenting.
However, things began to change. My father
whom I had not as yet inoculated was killed one
day as he stood near Khafra’s great pyramid. He
had gone with other priests and nobles to watch
the completion of the top. A block weighing sev-
eral tons became loosened near the top and came
tumbling down. As it struck near the bottom, it
hurtled out, striking my father and killing him
instantly.
My loss was not all I had to bear. The suc-
ceeding High Priest of Osiris was a young man
who had studied in the temple with me. He hated
me because of my success. He dared not, however,
express his dislike openly because of my favor
with Khafra.
In 2811 B. C. as you would say, Khafra passed
on to be judged by Osiris and begin his three thou-
sand year wait in his pyramid. The passing of
Khafra marked the beginning of the end for the
great fourth dynasty and for the Old Kingdom.
Succeeding Khafra came Shepseskaf, who was a
fair ruler but a weak one. His power waned more
and more and certain nobles and High Priests
aimed to get control. High officers of the army
plotted to overthrow him. Meanwhile Shepseskaf
had a young nephew for whom I had a great love
because of his intelligence.
Five years after the death of Khafra, Shepses-
kaf was overthrown. The man who gained control
was a friend of the High Priest of Amon and
together they plotted to slay me, not forgetting
Shepseskaf’s nephew. I took the boy and fled
from Memphis to Abydos.
I taught the boy everything I knew, including
the secrets of the elixirs. I inoculated him. Ten
years later we came back to Memphis and over-
threw the usurper. I myself reigned as pharaoh
until 2765 B. C. I then put the boy on the throne
as Thamphthis I and he reigned as supreme over
all for five years.
Now the Northern Kings were becoming power-
ful. Thamphthis could have held out much longer
but I was beginning to work out a gigantic plan.
Accordingly we spread the news around that
Thamphthis had died. All preparations for burial
were carried out and the empty mummy-case of
Thamphthis was taken to the Pyramid of Khafra.
The fifth dynasty started under the Northern
Kings. Several changes were made, some of a
religious order. The worship of R6 began. The
fifth dynasty of the Delta Kings never equaled
that of the fourth dynasty. At the end of the
fifth dynasty the nobles and the priests were al-
most as powerful as the Pharaoh.
The sixth dynasty was still of the Delta Kings.
The last pharaoh had no power and anarchy set
in. This great chaotic period lasted through the
seventh and until the end of the tenth dynasty.
Down the Centuries
D uring this time I played no active part in
the life of my people. Being the son of a
High Priest I had a mastaba near the pyramid
of Khafra. My elixir, however, gave me no use
for it. But Thamphthis and I wanted a place
where we could work and carry out our great
plan. We had a number of faithful associates,
loyal subjects of Thamphthis, and these I inocu-
lated. We had, as I said before, also several
faithful and inoculated slaves.
While Egypt was in turmoil, we built this place.
We selected this site because it was as lonely then
as it is now. Near the end of the tenth dynasty
we completed it. These “step-pyramids” were
old when I was born.
Then came the eleventh dynasty, the Middle
Kingdom and order. The capital was now at
Thebes. Memphis had lost its glory. But this
period did not last long. In the thirteenth dynas-
ty, wild tribesmen, the Hyksos, over-ran Egypt.
Order was not restored until the beginning of the
eighteenth dynasty. In 1580 B. C. the Hyksos
were overthrown. Aahmes became Pharaoh at
Thebes. During this time Thamphthis and I made
more and more wonderful discoveries. Many of
these you will see in our laboratories.
In the eighteenth dynasty I went out into the
world again. I held various offices under different
Pharaohs. When that meddling woman. Queen
Hatshepsut, dispossesed Thothmes III, I lost
much of my former power. Her ablest backer,
Senmut, hated me. I retaliated by having him
lose the Queen’s favor. To keep the truth from
being known I had him slain. Senmut was a man
of keen intellect, so keen that it brushed the edges
of my plans. I was forced to dispose of him, but
I still have the real Senmut in this place, his
body lies in the lower vaults, dead but yet alive.
I have further use for him.
I gained favor and glory under Thothmes IV,
and under Amenhotep III. Of course, I changed
my name and appearance so as to escape the at-
traction I would otherwise gain by my longevity.
Then came that low desert-wolf, would-be de-
stroyer of our gods, Amenhotep IV. He insulted
the great Amon, even changing his own name to
Akhenaton. Guided by his wily mother he built
his new city. In his sixth year as Pharaoh none
dared worship any God but Aten. I remember
well when he drove out from the electrum to pro-
claim Aten. The blind fools of the Heliopolitans
saw their mistake too late.
However, Akhenaton’s death marked the end of
his heresies. Confusion reigned. During Akhen-
aton’s reign, the armies were used to uphold Aten.
We were being stripped of our colonies.
Weak Smenkhara was on the throne nine
months. Then fourteen-year old Tutankhamen
came on the throne. Five years later I saw the
final rites of his mummy across the Nile. Thirty-
three centuries later, as a workman under Carter
I saw it brought to light !
At this time one of the important chapters of
my long life was written. I had become a general
under Tutankhamen. I still held my position
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
119
under Ai. Our country was in a rapid decline
and it seemed as though the eighteenth dynasty
marked the end of the Empire.
To me this did not mean so much. When my
plan was complete Egypt would be everlasting.
There was another young and brilliant general
who acted to avert the calamity. His name was
Hor-em-heb. He became Pharaoh and saved
Egypt. This made him divert his attention from
something he nearly won from me. I then had
no rivals to compete with for the hand of the beau-
tiful Nefti, niece of the beautiful Nefertiti.
I won her, made her my wife and told her all
my secrets. As my plan was constantly being de-
layed, I put her into a sleep where she lay as in
death, yet retaining all her youth and beauty. She
sleeps in the tomb across the moat, awaiting my
call.
Under Rameses, the third, I met a studious
young priest. He impressed me and I took him
into my confidence. At Luxor he had built an-
other such place as this. He is there now in
charge, waiting for the word.
I will talk no more of history, of the following
periods, of how at the end of the Empire Period,
Egypt’s beacons grew fainter and finally died out.
Suifice it to say that in the Roman Period I took
the name Sais-Amen-Tanis which still serves me
I will have food sent in and later show you
around. Good day.”
After Sais-Amen-Tanis left our apartment I
sank back in my chair. “By Jove, talk about your
Arabian Nights, my head’s in a whirl. Did you
hear the same things I did?”
“Yes, and all was spoken in truth.”
“What a story. Think of the knowledge he pos-
sesses. He speaks perfect English.”
“No doubt he speaks many other languages. He
has had centuries to learn them.”
“I say! I wonder what his great plan is?”
“I have no idea.”
At this time our food was brought in by a
female slave.,
“Hm,” said Peri, “evidently other women are
here besides Nefti. This place is like an under-
ground city.”
The meal was sumptuous. Duck, breast of
goose, cutlets of beef, cakes, salads, and honey and
fruit. The girl brought wine and lit some incense
tapers. Just as we were finishing our meal, Sais
appeared behind us without warning. Peri and I
jumped in our surprise.
“Wh — Where did you come from?”
“Oh, my little joke, I came in with the girl.
“But we didn’t see you.”
“I would have been surprised if you had. Human
eyes ordinarily do not see electrons and protons.”
“Electrons ! Protons !”
“Yes, I or rather the electrons and the protons
that compose my body were sent in here on an in-
visible ray over the slave’s head. Behind you in
that cabinet that opened while your back was
turned is where I was assembled.”
“That is impossible. It would be absolutely
contrary to Bohr’s theory.”
“Bohr’s concept of the atom is wrong. I see
that you do not keep in touch with the latest de-
velopments in physics in your world. Your scien-
tists have displaced the Bohr theory with that of
Schrodinger. However, Schrodinger too is wrong.
The wave atom is quite wrong. Now if one bad
the key to the ether do you not think that he could
take down a structure of matter and build it up
again ? Matter is energy, all is energy.”
“Did the early Egyptians know the atom?” I
asked.
“No, that is one of my latest discoveries. I
started on it in 1810 A.D.
“That Is a mighty key you hold,” said Peri.
“Yes, so mighty that you can not grasp it. How-
ever, I came to show you around, come.”
A Scene of Horror f
W E passed out of our chamber into the one we
had come in by and then into the room where
the great sarcophagus lay. Sais walked over to
it and bowing low, muttered some strange words.
Coming back to us he indicated fhe sarcophagus
and said, “There is Thamphthis I, greatest of the
great. Being wearied of the long years he sleeps
as Nefti and Senmut. Soon all will arise.”
Then as we turned and passed through some
tapestries we saw an amazing scene.
“The Temple,” said Sais.
We were in a ^eat semi-circular room. The air
was heavy with incense and oriental perfume. At
the front of the room stood a tremendous golden
figure. Other figures ranged around the walls.
Moving among the figures like wisps of smoke
were priestesses. Out of somewhere came low,
weird, enchanting music.
Sais stepped over to the great figure. He made
humble obeisance to it. The priestesses had ceased
moving, the music continued, the temple lights
dimmed.
“Amon, Amon, oh great on§» look down on us,
who are of thee. Soon your desecrated temples
will be rebuilt, oh mighty Amon. Even now come
defilers of your resting place.”
I remarked to Peri that it was strange that he
spoke in.*English.
Sais rose and backed away. The music rose
and I noticed others filling the temple. Sais
beckoned us to follow. As we passed a statue of
Anubis he stopped and spoke in his own tongue.
I caught the words Anpu, and Amenti.
Then he proceeded to a great chair and we also
were given chairs. All the time the music was ris-
ing and a chant was being given by the priestesses.
I watched in fascination. Six priests entered bear-
ing offerings for Amon.
Suddenly before our startled eyes a section of
the floor before the statue of Amon rose up. Up,
up it came. Then it stopped and we saw attached
below a great cage. In the cage were two huge
gorillas. The cage was swung off on a platform
and the floor sank back.
The two great beasts tore at the bars of their
cages and the people all around them fell back.
Then Sais arose, stepped down, and walked over
to them. As if by magic the beasts drew to the
center of their cage. Then suddenly they stood
upright and stiff.
120
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
With horrified eyes we saw Sais step into the
cage. The animals did not move. Then he spoke
and they nodded their heads, he spoke again and
they raised their arms and dropped them. Sais
then stepped out of the cage and came back to his
seat.
He addressed Dr. Peri.
“Well, Doctor, do you find mesmerism useful?
In a few minutes you will see some real tests in
electro-biology.”
As he finished speaking a second cage came in.
A shout arose. A light flashed on it, and within
we saw our six men!
The chanting ceased and a high priest rose and
spoke. He frequently indicated the two cages.
Then he turned to Amon, and Sais and everybody
in the temple arose and faced the ^eat figure. Sais
gave orders and a kit was thrust into the gorillas’
cage. The two cages were bound together and
then all drew away from the cages. All the lights
were turned out except the ones on the cage and
the great figure of Amon. I looked at this weird
scene feeling as thou^ I was in the midst of a
terrible dream. Then rhe voice of Sais broke the
silence. He spoke, it seemed for hours. Finally
he started to speak in English to us.
“Before you are six of your men. Arabs, and
Egyptian Copts, present natives of Egypt, who
for money are ready to destroy Old Egypt’s glory.
They desecrate Egypt’s Gods, they care nothing
for Egypt. The Egyptian Copts are in a way our
descendants, and for their crime they will be
killed quickly. For the Arabs, kin to the hated
Hyksos of old, for you, oh sons of Allah, is reserv-
ed a wonderful death.”
Turning to us he continued.
“View the fate of your men. The way they shall
die is not Egyptian but an invention of my own.
It has never been used before but it is perfectly
justifiable. It is rather unique for it employs the
science of the mind.” He turned to the great
statue and cried: “Oh, Amon, to you the sacri-
fice.”
At his words the music started in a low, purely
oriental tone. A tenseness was in the air. Then
suddenly the gorillas started to move. I watched
the terror-stricken men, feeling sick at heart. I
could distinguish them clearly. I heard a voice
beside me. It was Sais.
“I am having the Egyptian Copts killed quick-
ly.”
The Egyptians in the cage moved up to the side
of the cage next to the gorillas. I saw the goril-
las mechanically reach through the bars and
strangle them one by one. The Arabs were stand-
ing like blocks of stone.
In a daze I watched the two apes take tools
from the kits and cut through the bars, going
through movements exactly like men. I saw the
two beasts enter the Arabs’ cage, saw them take
the men one at a time back to their own cage. I
saw that the men came from their hypnotic trance
as they were taken by the gorillas. 1 shall not de-
scribe the horrible nature of their deaths.
CHAPTER VII.
The Great Conspiracy
A t the end of this ghastly affair the entire tem-
ple was thrown into darkness. When the
lights went on again, the cages with their horror
were gone.
I never felt more faint in my life and Dr. Peri
looked like a block of white marble. We were of-
fered wine and soon lost consciousness for it was
drugged.
This episode, the terrible nature of it, showed
Sais-Amen-Tanis could transcend all in cruelty
as well as in brain power.
When I came to I found I was back in our cham-
ber. Remembering Dr. Peri, I looked around for
him. I saw him seated on a divan absorbed com-
pletely in a scroll. I arose unsteadily and went
over to him.
“Lord, Peri,” I cried, “I never even read of a
more horrible scene than that which we wit-
nessed.”
He looked up, a strange expression on his face.
“Not nearly as horrible as this paper. Sais must
have left it here by mistake.”
“My God, what is it?”
“It is the death sentence of the human race.”
“Peri, are you losing your mind? I’m afraid
that scene was too much.”
“Nothing is impossible, here, my boy. This
paper contains the great plan. It has been great-
ly added to since it was first made. That is be-
cause the world is different in all respects from
then. It is a plan engineered by the world’s great-
est intellect, and the cruelest. Sit down and hear
a synopsis of its contents.
“As Sais has said it was started during the end
of the fourth dynasty, forty-seven hundred years
ago! It seems Sais made an amazing discovery
about the time he made his elixir. Some unknown
mineral was brought to Memphis by some Egyp-
tian who had gone as far as the Congo. This min-
eral was given into the charge of Sais’s father.
Sais one day discovered a peculiar thing about it.
When he placed small objects a certain distance
away from it with light passing through this sub-
stance the objects became much larger.
“Sais therefore stole some of it for his experi-
nenting. Soon he so perfected it that single celled
animals became visible. Of course he did not know
what they were at first. However it was not long
until he became aware of the importance of his
discovery. He soon learned he had access to a liv-
ing world utterly unknown to others.
“He experimented in this world and came across
peculiar things. At last however he organized his
knowledge and as a result he knew more about
micro-organisms forty-five hundred years ago
than we do today. He made the collossal dis-
covery that certain of these organisms and not
evil spirits cause man’s illnesses.
“He started to produce some of these organ-
isms deadly to man and to produce new kinds. At
length he made the terrible discoveries that
threaten the world today. He produced certain
bacilli that superseded all other deadly organ-
isms. He took one of these bacilli and from
#
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
121
it produced an extremely deadly toxin in the form
of a powder which when spread through the air
and inhaled or caught on the eyes was absolutely
fatal.
“Sais however, did not stop there, he produced
an anti-toxin for it and put this anti-toxin in his
elixir. All those that have the elixir in their
blood need not fear the toxin! Therefore, if this
powder were spread over the world all animal
life above the simple forms would be annihilated
except those with the elixir in their blood.
“Sais waited long for his plan to materialize.
He had no intention of waiting so long, but
through the ages difficulties began to interfere.
Now at last after thousands of years he can make
the world his.
“That is his plan. He, the young Pharaoh, and
the other priest will rule the world. Of course
he knows more about the world’s extent and of
his task than he did several thousand years ago.
“This horrible plan calls for the destruction of
all the human race except his chosen in this place
and in the other. He will also spare a few thou-
sand Egyptian Copts to serve as a working class.
After this part is completed he will go about set-
ting up the Old Egypt.
“Do you realize that here in the laboratory
rooms far below us are hundreds of Ancient Egyp-
tians in the same state as Senmut and the girl
and the Pharaoh? These people have still hun-
dreds of years before them ; some day Egypt will
cover the entire world and no nation will dispute
her.
“You know, my son, I’m afraid you can’t appre-
ciate the extent of Sais’s knowledge. He far sur-
passes our scientists in every field. Once his
forces are set in motion no power can stop them.
Do you know what power was exercised over our
men and the gorillas? Do you know what science
Sais is master of, a science our world knows little
about? Mesmerism, electro-biology.’’
“Sais is going to use it in — .”
“Hello, gentlemen, I sincerely hope you feel
well.’’
It was Sais coming out of no-where. How long
he had been listening I could not tell.
“Hello,” I stammered.
“Well, gentlemen, I just happened to overhear
but don’t worry. It is just as well, I was going
to tell you sooner or later. Now we can go ahead.
Now you understand my purpose, it is only fair
I show you around and explain, come.”
We followed him to the room of the sarcopha-
gus. Here he stopped us and clapped his hands.
A slave appeared bearing a scroll. Sais unrolled
it and showed us a continuous series of drawings.
“Here are plans, plans of everything here above
and below the ground.”
For five minutes we examined the plans. We
learned there were six levels to this central build-
ing. We were on the sixth. The two main exper-
imental laboratories were on this level. Besides
these on this level were Sais’s rooms, one of which
we occupied and other luxurious living rooms, the
room where the Pharaoh lay, the temple, and
quarters for Sais’s attendants.
“Gentlemen,” Sais began, “you have no doubt
noticed the external features while you were be-
ing brought here. The fifth floor is on a level with
the moat, this one above it, the first floor below.
There are three elevators, one you saw in the tem-
ple, one in my main apartment, and the other in
the main laboratory. This shaft in the laboratory
not only extends to the main level but goes up to
the surface through the pyramid.
“So you see, my friends, I usually leave by the
pyramid, the mastaba is used but rarely. The
chief laboratories are on this floor. I think you
will find them most interesting so we will go there
last. Come to my chamber and we will descend
to the fifth level. This level is modeled after the
court of Rameses II. This level is the most beau-
tiful and as it’s on the moat level it has the advan-
tage of having its own terrace.”
The Realm of Sais
W E descended to the most resplendent apart-
ments I had ever seen. Sais conducted us
through them. They covered the entire level and
were beyond description. These rooms had been
used by* the Pharaoh Thamphthis before he de-
cided to rest a few years.
“We’ll go down to the fourth level now, it is
there we keep our materialistic treasures.” Sais
said after we had looked over the fifth level.
We descended into a circular room which had
halls leading off like spokes from a hub. We
pas.sed down one of these halls. Everywhere were
Egyptian guards armed with swords and a deadly
ray generator. From Sais we learned that the
guards sent a code number at a designated time
as a report to the control room. We entered one
of the mighty vaults. The first thing to strike
my eye was a peculiar machine in the center. It
resembled the projector in a planetarium. It had
disks like a projector has, facing in all directions.
“Ah,” said Sais, “you like what your scientists
call television? That is my device. A picture of
everything in this vault is obtained in the control
room. The control room sees all. Every vault is
equipped the same. If anybody is found in them
that shouldn’t be, the air supply is simply shut
off for a time.”
I looked at Peri and he looked at me. We knew
Sais meant what he said. We then looked at the
coffers. They were carved from diorite.
“This,” said our guide, “is the gem room.”
He motioned us to one of the coffers. It was
about four feet high, of the same width and about
six feet long. I looked at the top and gasped.
Across the top were incised thirty figures, figures
of men standing upright, arms outstretched, head
back, the Egyptian sign for million.
“Thirty million,” I gasped.
“Look within,” said Sais. He pressed a button
and the cover rose. We were blinded by flashing
gems, diamonds.
“They are all diamonds?” I asked.
“Yes. In the other coffers are rubies, emeralds,
sapphires, and pearls. All of equal value.”
We were shown the contents of the other cof-
fers which were slightly larger. When we left the
coffer I said :
122
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
“I should value this coffer at about thirty mil-
lion pounds.
“That is but a part of our wealth. Come.”
We went through vaults stored with platinum,
gold, and silver. I asked Sais the total value.
For an answer he took us into a chamber where
two scribes were writing. He took a gold bound
scroll and showed us the value of the treasure.
Before us we saw a man with outstretched arms,
and to the right and slightly above a small frog.
Sais smiled and told us he used the figures alge-
braically.
“Impossible,” I cried, “one hundred thousand
millions! You are mistaken. Besides where did
you collect this treasure?”
“Based on the present value of these things,
that is what they are worth. Of course I could
not sell them for that, they would have no mar-
ket. I did not collect, I formed or manufactured.
I told you I know the laws of the atom and I know
the ether. It is simple then to produce them for
amusement. Now to the third level.”
On the third level were laboratories and work-
rooms, finely equipped and producing new won-
derful things. They, however, were secondary.
Their work was given to them by the chief labor-
atories.
We then passed to the second level. Parts of it
were horrible, freaks produced by the bio-chem-
ists, animals for the experiments, monstrosities
like the gorillas created by Sais. In one section
were hundreds of captive birds and bats.
Then we passed to the lower level. This we
found to be twice as large in extent as any of the
others. One half was a series of store rooms,
here were supplies of all sorts. Then Sais led us
down a long hall to the other section. We were
told by Sais that this would be an interesting part.
We entered a room of mammoth proportions,
lit in violet. I felt a peculiar nervous sensation.
Before us stretched long rows of tables construct-
ed of marble. On each table lay a glass case. Dr.
Peri and I correctly surmised their contents. In
each lay an Egyptian, sleeping till the time was
ready. With the elixir in their blood and by other
inventions of Sais they had been sleeping for cen-
turies. A drug like that in Nefti and Thamphthis
produced the sleep. This dnig produced a kind of
coma where all the bodily functions cease. The
elixir enables the extreme prolongation of the
coma.
We saw the noble Senmut, who engineered Hat-
shepsut’s Dier-el Bahri. It was like going back
into Old Egypt, walking among hundreds of that
old race.
Finally we came back to Sais’s apartment where
he had wine brought. If I had been bewildered
before, I was ten times more so now. Sais talked
and for the first time asked us questions about
ourselves. He did not ask much, however. Then
suddenly he asked, “What do you think of our in-
telligence compared to your civilization?”
“It transcends our civilization,” I replied, “as
much as that of your country surpassed other na-
tions thirty-five centuries ago, except for one
thing.”
“And what is that, may I ask?”
“That is your outlook on numan life. It is of
a low, ignorant, barbaric type. True our civiliza-
tion settles disputes by war, true we have mur-
derers and other unfeeling people but our general
view-point far exceeds yours. In your hunt for
knowledge and facts, you missed the greatest fact,
the thoughts of a man’s mind determine him.”
Sais laughed and exclaimed ;
“Why, you are a philosopher ! Well, think along
your entrenched ideas, mine will become this
earth’s law. Now you shall retire to your cham-
ber and rest, then I will conduct you to the chief
laboratories.”
We returned to our chamber and prepared to
sleep. We did not know the time for I had for-
gotten to wind my watch and Peri did not have
his. Of course the inhabitants of this place cared
nothing for time. Also of course we could not
tell night from day. It was because of these facts
that a most startling thing happened to us.
Peri and I both went to sleep. I awoke first
and then woke Peri. A little later Sais came in.
How long we slept I do not know. Sais bade us
bathe and then had food brought in. Finally he
arose and said :
“We will go to the chief laboratories and then
my proposition.”
We followed him back to his apartment and
then through a panel door. We found ourselves
in a long oblong room. Along the walls were
cases of chemical apparatus. Different machines
were distributed about. The machines were high-
ly complicated and though electrical little resem-
bled any apparatus I knew of. Some did look
like X-ray machines. Stony-faced men stood
around at operating boards. Others were among
the glass topped tables. Some tables looked like
operating tables. One man was talking before a
small coil of wire on a loop that was connected
to a peculiar apparatus. Some liquids in it were
being mixed in a horizontal tube. A conductor ran
parallel to it about an inch away. Sparks were
jumping across the gap.
Sais told us the man was talking to the control
room. I saw two of the men apparently study-
ing the effect of some rays on a screen. Sais told
us that physical and chemical experiments were
going on here. He took us to one end to show us
the power unit. This was stupendous in its work-
ing. No person attended it. Machines were cal-
culating equations. The whole thing was run ac-
cording to absolute laws. The laws of the atom.
Sais who knew these laws had machines to control
them. The electrons and the protons follow cer-
tain laws, any one knowing these laws can figure
ahead and get the ultimate equations. These ulti-
mate equations give the energy of matter itself.
These machines worked the equations and con-
trolled the power.
CHAPTER VIII.
A Flattering Offer
F inally we left and Sais took us to the' other
laboratory where the control room and the
shaft to the pyramid were located. It was about
the same as the other in size and entirely of whit-
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
123
ish marble. The shaft to the pyramid was in one
corner and a car was inside. The car went up by
an ethereal wave pressure. At the other end was
the control room. In between was the biological
section.
We saw a human body lying on a table. I re-
cognized it! It was Ahmet! The top of his skull
had been removed. Sais toyed with a trephine
and talked about the experiment.
“You see I am continuing my brain efficiency
experiments. 1 used this man’s brain for a cer-
tain substance I wanted, a sort of juice. In the
brain there is a substance upon which depends its
efficient functioning and nerve activity. I took
some from this man’s brain and injected it into
the lymphatic glands of two of my slaves. I had
worked with dogs and apes but you must have the
human substance to inject into a human.’’
Further on we saw some men operating on bats.
“Ah,’’ continued Sais, “here you should be in-
terested . These bats are old friends of yours.”
“How?” I asked.
“Well, one night they kept your camels com-
pany.”
“Kept our camels company?”
“Oh, yes, these bats killed your camels. Let
me explain. You shall see how much I depend on
mesmerism. Yes, mesmerism is my all handy tool.
The field of science it opens is amazing but by
using my present knowledge I get necessary im-
mediate results. You see I have control of all the
lower animals here by the mind. By performing
an operation on the brain the subject is rendered
more susceptible.
“I will be egotistic and say I have the power
over mind far exceeding any other. So all I had
to do was get some of my bats. I choose bats of
the vampire class with prominent piercing parts.
Those parts were covered by a deadly poison.
Then I sent the bats out under my control and
did away with your camels, and Incidentally
frightened the guard to death. Too simple, too
simple, come here!”
We followed him. There in glass cases exclud-
ing short length ether waves were tubes of that
deadly toxin. Sais spoke.
“Look, my friends, gaze upon what soon will be
spread over the earth.”
“How shall you spread it?” I asked mechanical-
ly for his words brought me back to his terrible
plan.
“Oh how simple. Mesmerism, my friend, I and
my assistants will control thousands of birds who
shall have the toxin powder dusted on them. The
birds will have the anti-toxin in their blood so
they will not be affected. Then the great scien-
tists can try to protect the world, ha yes, they can
try. The people here and at the other place have
the anti-toxin in their blood, we need not fear.”
“My God!”
“Ha ! yes, thousands of birds will soon be scat-
tering the toxin quite freely. Then after all are
dead we will raise Egypt again to power and
glory. Come here.”
We passed to another part of the laboratory.
Here we saw a dog, or what had once been a dog.
Sais had been experimenting again at changing
the actual bodily form of animals.
“See here, my friends, what would your zoolo-
gists call this? I have told you before about
changing bodily form. I made cats as large as
calves and vice versa. My gorillas are one of my
larger products. Yes, the secret of the proto-
plasm opens many doors. Come and look at the
controls, the heart of our abode.”
We followed him into a glass partitioned room.
I shall not describe it but quote Sais’s explana-
tions.
“Yes, the heart. Ten of my most intelligent
scientists are always on duty here. To handle all
the television five men are needed. My television
scheme is far superior to anything known to your
scientists. Here we receive pictures of strategic
points. Control number one ought to interest you.
From it comes pictures of the outside world. By
means of it we watched your expedition. I saw
the last expedition leave by it after I had five of
them smitten. No. 2 gives us pictures of the mas-
taba on the ground, and the first two chambers
underground and the corridor. No. 3 watches the
terrace and the moat. No. 4 watches the treasure
vaults, and No. 6 watches the fifth and sixth
levels. So we see rather well.
“Here are the controls that operate all doors
and panels outside of this structure, they also take
care of the water movement. These operate all
doors in the building. Here is an important set,
the main power controls. With the mathematical
machines, they guard the infinite power. This is
the receiving and broadcasting system. Here the
orders are sent. And these here, ah, this is where
the ray controls are, those rays that disintegrate
and rebuild matter.
“Now, friends, you have seen all. Here is your
part and the terms. I have kept you alive and
will continue to do so as well as allow you a life
of luxury. If you wish power and time for re-
search you will have it if you will consent to the
terms given you. I have need of your services in
carrying out my plan. Come with me to my cham-
ber.”
When we had entered it, I stood before him and
in low even tones began to talk.
“Sais, do you think that we will ever consider
aiding you in destroying the world and our peo-
ple?”
“But, you will live in a much better civilization,
you will have opportunities that you could never
receive in your country. I want you to aid in the
distributing of the toxins. Human aid is neces-
sary and you are of your world, are well known
and could do what I want you to.
“One of you I will place under hypnotic influ-
ence and the other I will not. I will send you
back to your countries with valuable, no, invalu-
able archaeological objects, things that will create
more interest than Tutankhamen’s tombs.
“These will be sent to all big cities for inspec-
tion and with them shall be some toxin. You two
men went out on an expedition so you can say yod
discovered these. If investigators come, you can
tell them you found the relics at this place. If
they investigate here I will have a tomb prepared
124
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
for them with enough relics in it to satisfy them.
I have written and cabled your friends and gov-
ernment officials so they will not wonder why you
do not send word.
“If any body comes here too soon I shall hypno-
tise you and give you some men and let you out
to work. To yourselves you will seem normal and
going on with your archaeological work. As for
that boy of yours, who wasn’t trapped, well, he
was captured and brought here yesterday.”
“You monster, do you think we will consent?”
“You still have time to think over your final
answer. Whether you accept or not will not save
your world. It would simply help me and save
yourselves. I still have work to do and I command
you to go to your chamber.”
Peri and I, after we were back in our chamber,
became nearly frantic. Soon all the people of the
earth except a few would be exterminated. Our
beautiful world was to be wiped out !
A slave brought in some wine and we both fin-
ally took some. After a short while I felt drowsy
and my head began to swim. Dr. Peri fell back
on a couch in a dead sleep. Suddenly all went
black and 1 fell away.
The Escape!
A TUGGING of my side, an incessant tugging
and a throb, throb, in my head. I wanted to
sleep, how I wanted to sleep. Tug, tug, tug.
“Master, oh. Master!”
I twisted slowly my head in a sickly swirl.
“Master, oh. Master!”
Then my conscious mind returned. I struggled
to sit up and open my eyes. The tugging ceased.
I opened my eyes. Before me a face I had seen
I ’fore and then my full consciousness returned.
‘ Ali,” I cried.
“Oh, master, you are awake at last.”
“Ali, where am I? What has happened?”
Then a terrible thought flashed across my mind.
“Are the people in the world all dead?”
“No, master, not yet.”
“Thank God, but where is Peri?”
"Over there, master.”
I looked and saw him lying in a case. Looking
around further I saw where we were. We were
in the lowest level, in the room of the death sleep
where hundreds of Egyptians were.
“Peri!” I cried.
“Softly Master, he is but in Sais’s sleep.”
“That wine last night,” I said, “must have been
drugged, but how did, how did you get here, Ali?”
“The wine you drank seventeen months ago was
drugged, my Master, not last night.”
“Seventeen months ago?”
“Yes, my Master, you and Peri have lain here
for seventeen months.”
“My God!”
“Follow me, Master, I have found a way for
your escape and I will explain. Dr. Peri will be
all right.”
I followed in a daze. W’e went into the store
chambers and there I heard faithful All’s story.
As Sais had told us, he had been captured.
Sais, fortunately for Ali, had use for him. It
seems something happened to Sais’ laboratory
servant. The elixir in his blood was not the same
as that in the others and the toxin had killed him.
He was mummified and his mummy case was
made. Sais had him put in the burial chamber
of the northwest mastaba.
However, two French Egyptologists found it,
and this was the mummy we had seen and com-
mented on at the Louvre.
Ali took his place. Sais had yet to finish con-
structing his bogus tomb and he wanted us out
of the way for a time so our wine was drugged.
Then while we slept he introduced a small amount
of the elixir and the other more powerful sleep-
ing drug, and we had been taken down here.
Ali had found this out but he never could go
down. Then Sais did something that indirectly
aided Ali. He awakened Nefti as he felt he soon
would be ready to sweep the world. Then I learn-
ed Nefti never had favored Sais’ brutal plans.
She heard of us and wanted to see us but Sais for-
bade her.
However, she managed to steal down. Now
here comes an embarrassing part. Ali claims she
fell immediately in love with me, and took pity
on me. Rot of course but at any rate she came
down several times.
Learning Ali was our servant she questioned
him about us. Ali was by this time learning An-
cient Egyptian, and he saw immediately that
through her he might aid us. Sais told Ali of his
plans about us and Ali told Nefti.
She therefore determined to free us. Ali, j ump-
ing at this chance, gave her suggestions.
He knew from the first that it would be best to
free only one of us. He told Nefti she would have
to get some of the neutralizing fluid before Sais
himself awakened us. This she finally did.
Then with her aid and a slave who obeyed her,
Ali was projected dovra to me by the ray. This
was possible because in the store rooms were re-
ceiving cabinets.
I embraced Ali warmly and thanked him.
He told me that Sais wouldn’t come down for
six weeks and I must escape right away. He said
we would take the shaft up to Sais’ chamber
where Nefti was waiting. Quietly we sped up to
the sixth level.
I stepped out and then involuntarily gasped.
Before me stood the most beautiful creature I
had ever seen or ever hoped to see. Dressed in
the most gorgeous raiment stood Nefti. She, her-
self, I shall not try to describe. Words are inade-
quate. She overpowered my sense like some sweet
but potent drug. She glided over to me and said
three words m English.
“How are you?”
I stammered like a school boy and said:
“Er, uh, fine, that is extraordinarily fine, er uh.”
Ali whispered to me that she understood very
little English excepting that which he had taught
her. She laughed lightly. Ali saved me by seating
us and playing interpreter. That our conversa-
tion was meager mattered little. I immediately
became infatuated with her.
It all seems so peculiar now I think of it, sit-
ting in that place talking to a princess of ancient
Egypt. Her eyes continually sought mine. Ali
said however I had better eat and hide ;for the
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
125
night. I was to hide in one pf the slave quarters.
Going, I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her
fingers.
All night long I thought of her. I say night,
but it may have been day outside. When I awoke
Ali brought me food, saying, I was to leave im-
mediately, Nefti, he said, was up in the pyramid.
When I finished he had made the shaft car ready
for luckily no one was around. I asked if Peri
would be all right and Ali assured me he would.
He was going to stay till I came back. With tears
in my eyes I bade him farewell. The car shot up
to the pyramid,
I stepped out and stood before Nefti. I fol-
lowed her down a passage way. We came to a
great wall on which Nefti pressed a stone and two
panels on it slid open. We stepped into the open-
ing and the panels closed. Inside Nefti pressed
another small stone and we moved. A bluish
violet light lit up the interior.
Suddenly the motion stopped and the panels
slid open, I gazed over the desert and at the
Egyptian sky. We stepped out and I saw near us a
fine horse. She handed me a paper which I found
out later Ali wrote for her in English.
In the light of the desert moon I read the mes-
sage. On it were the words written by her direc-
tion.
“Oh modern man, take this horse which is
equipped and escape. The horse is a product of
Sais, it knows no fatigue. Rescue your friends
and when you destroy this place as I know you
will, always remember Nefti.”
Tears came to my eyes as I finished. I looked
at her. God, but she was beautiful. Then I step-
ped towards her, took her in my arms and kissed
her. She sobbed and clung to me. I made her
understand I was coming for her and then I
mounted my horse, I see her yet standing in the
light of the Egyptian moon. Standing before the
structure reared by her peoples.
I traveled with all haste to England, here I am,
and you Donald are the first to hear my story.
What do you intend to do?”
CHAPTER IX.
Back to the Tomb
T his was the remarkable story I heard from
Alfred’s lips. The dawn’s first light was
creeping the room when he finished. His eyes
were staring in front of him and his face was
white. I had sat like a statue all through his
story. Now I arose stiffly.
“L^rd,” I said, “I doubt if any man ever met
so much adventure, but let’s have a whiskey and
soda.”
“You talk of whiskeys and sodas after what I
have told?”
“Oh, come. I realize the full import, just give
me time to tnink. After all, you know you can’t
run right back to Egypt.”
“Yes, but my God, every delay brings us nearer
to the fatal time. Think also of the fate of Nefti,
Peri, and Ali, if Sais discovers I have escaped. He
will immediately set his plan in operation. That
is why I came to you. If I told the authorities
they would go blundering around before they
would believe me and Sais would start at once,”
“That’s just it, secrecy and then a surprise at-
tack. I know Dr, 'faylor and through him we will
get in touch with the heads of Scotland Yard. I
will call him at once.”
After a light breakfast we were speeding in
Stewart’s car towards London. At eleven thirty
we pulled up at Scotland Yard headquarters. Ex-
actly twelve hours since I was first ushered into
this mad thing. Dr. Taylor was waiting for us and
we were quickly shown in to the superintendent
There before the superintendent, Dr. Taylor,
Lord Beachley, and myself, Stewart retold his
story more briefly. I saw looks of astonishment
on the faces of three men, but not one bit of dis-
belief was registered.
The superintendent sat and toyed with his pen,
arose, and paced about the room. Lord Beachley
and Dr. Taylor sat and looked at me. Stewart be-
came impatient, “My Lord, say something, what
plans have you?”
The superintendent wheeled, dropped his pen,
and spoke.
“Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll get in touch with
the Foreign Office immediately. We’ll state the
facts to Sir Arthur Kent and then after commun-
icating with the Egyptian Government, set out for
Egypt. Somehow or other we’ll get Dr. Perl and
the others out of there and then we’ll come to
terms with Sais,”
“We’ll never come to terms with him. We’ll
have to capture him forcibly, but how?” I asked.
The superintendent continued speaking.
“I will have an air-force situated in the desert
nearby. You, Stewart, will have to get back in and
learn the location of the other place. Nefti knows
most likely. Get Nefti, Peri, and Ali out of the
place, then see Sais and try to get him out. If
you can’t do it, escape yourself. If Sais tries to
carry out his plan we will immediately bomb the
place. By tomorrow I’ll have you on your way
back to Egypt.”
The next day saw the completion of our com-
munications with the Foreign Office, That evening
I was with Taylor and Stewart on a boat-train.
My mind was in a whirl. The chances were all
against our succeeding. Little did the world know
of its impending fate.
I could easily see by the way we were received
at the various stops of our journey, by secret gov-
ernment officials that word of our mission had
gone ahead of us.
At Alexandria we were hustled on board a
large transport airship. We flew along to the
west of the Nile and as we neared Cairo we cut
straight west across the desert. The pilot kept
at a very high altitude. Finally we changed to
a more southerly direction and Stewart told the
pilot to drop lower.
Far below I could make out black blotches on
the desert sands. Stewart said :
“That’s the place, but don’t go any lower. We’ll
land five miles to the southwest.” The plane kept
on to the southwest and just at sunset we landed.
Stewart, Taylor, and I got out of the plane. What
we were to do had been all pre-arranged. Stewart
and I were to go on to the Pyramid, Taylor was to
126
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
stay with the pilot. Stewart and I started off
through the night across the desert.
When we first came in sight of the pyramid,
Stewart told me to drop to my knees. When we
had approached a little closer he told me to crawl.
He said we must escape the watchful eyes of No. 1.
I could tell well enough that Stewart must have
been in a state of great suspense and apprehen-
sion. If the suspense was hard for me to bear
it must have been doubly hard for Stewart. At
last we reached the base of the pyramid. I could
see the silhouettes of the mastabas outlined
against the sky. I had no time before to specu-
late on my surrounding but now the full eerieness
of it dawned on me. I shuddered involuntarily.
“Donald, give me your light. Nefti has shown
me a stone, a secret stone that will open the wall.
Ah ! Here it is. God, if No. 1 spots us, we’re gone.”
I wished I were two thousand miles away and
told Stewart so.
He did not reply. Suddenly, noiselessly, the
front of one of the big base stones slid apart,
panel fashion, the ends sliding over the other
stones. Inside I saw a small cabin. Stewart and
I went in and sat down on small seats.
Stewart pulled a lever closing the panels. He
pulled another and we started to move. When
we came to a stop, the panels opened and we
stepped out into pitch darkness. I stood still
while Stewart cautiously snapped on his light.
After looking around he put out his light and
came over to me.
“It’s nearly nine o’clock. Time is nothing to
those below but Ali, who has a watch, goes to
the control room at 10 P. M. every night. Tonight
when I give the signal Ali will let us down.”
“But how about the ten men in the control
room?”
“It’s then that shifts are made. Only one man
will be in the control room for several minutes.
Ali will drive a knife through his spinal column.
One hour more.”
We waited, it seemed for a year, until Stewart
pulled out his watch.
“Ali should be there in three minutes. I will
give the signal then. If somebody else gets it
we’re done for.”
*‘Run, Master, Run!’*
I N three minutes Stewart gave the signal. We
waited. Then an answer in Stewart’s code. I
followed Stewart to the elevator shaft. The area
about the shaft was lighted. I saw the car, a
globular thing rising without support. It rose to
the floor level, stopped, a door swung open and
we stepped in. The car descended.
It stopped and Stewart went to the side door.
He opened it and stepped out. I heard him talk-
ing quickly. Then he told me to get out.
“Come quick, Ali has the body of Raamen.
When the others come he will say Raamen has
gone and he is to take his place until he returns.
Nefti will meet us in the temple. Come!”
I hastened out, looked at Ali, looked at the won-
derful laboratory and followed Stewart. We
passed into an Orientally furnished room, then in-
to a large nearly circular one, the room where
Thamphthis the First lay. Stewart grabbed my
arm and we passed into the temple.
Something rustled beside us. We turned and
there stood the most beautiful woman I had ever
seen. She looked like a blending of the finest
Oriental and Occidental womanhood. Stewart
took her to him and kissed her. She clung to him,
murmuring. Then she saw me and started.
Stewart laughed and indicated that I was harm-
less. I bowed to her and she smiled. Then she
motioned us over to a great statue. At its base
she pressed a button and a door flew open. We
were to hide there till Peri was free. We stepped
in and the door closed after us.
Two hours later our hiding place was opened.
With Nefti was an oldish man with a ghastly ex-
pression on his face.
“Peri, my old Peri, good, she got you.”
Stewart and Peri embraced each other; there
were tears in Peri’s eyes. Nefti gave us all food
and put us all back in our hiding place. After
waiting until we were all cramped I was aroused
by hearing people walking around in the temple.
Peri and Stewart too sat up and listened. Then a
voice spoke out in a strange tongue.
I could not see either Peri or Stewart but from
their hoarse whispers I knew that they were high-
ly keyed up. Stewart whispered to me.
“It’s Sais.”
The voice ceased and we heard the sound of
footsteps leaving the room. Peri and Stewart
seemed shaken because of hearing the terrible
Sais. I, myself never had contact with him but I
felt chilled.
We heard a step outside of our hiding place.
We sat up. The panel opened and Ali quickly
stepped in. His voice trembled.
“Oh, Master,” he cried, “Sais is terribly angry
because Raamen is gone. He does not know he
is dead and he is looking for him. He sent me
from the control room and ordered one of the
scientists to take Raamen’s place. He sent Nefti
to her chamber and is going to search every level
for Raamen. What if he goes below and finds
you gone?”
“We must get out of here. Ali, will you try
^0 bring Nefti here?”
“Yes, Master, but I have a plan. Two men here
are greatly devoted to Nefti, they also have work-
ed in the control room. I will send them saying
Sais sent them, to the control room. They can go
while Sais is below. Control operator No. 1 and
the shaft operator will be recalled. Then you
can all escape.”
“Yes,” Stewart began, “but we want to upset
Sais’ terrible plans, and how will you escape?”
“Master, I will take care of all. Do as I say. I
will be all right. Say, goodby to me for the pre-
sent.”
Stewart embraced Ali and with many a break
in his voice said :
“Ali, there never was a more faithful, loving
and brave lad. You will join us at the shaft.
Goodby for the present, Ali.
Peri embraced Ali and I shook his hand and
then Ali went out.
Poor Ali, if Stewart had known that that good-
by was to be the last, he never would have let him
THE SECRET OF THE TOMB
127
go. Ali, faifhful to the last, had bidden his mas-
ter his final adieu.
A few minutes later we heard someone ap-
proach and the panel opened. There stood Nefti.
“Come,” she said, “Ali fix.”
We followed her out of the temple, through the
room of the sarcophagus, through a chamber and
into the laboratory. We passed unnoticed to the
pyramid shaft and got in the car. The only one
who saw us was the one at the controls of the
shaft. The car sped up the shaft and we got out
of the car.
We waited in the pyramid and then from a re-
ceiver near the shaft we heard Ali’s voice.
“Run, Master, run. Get out of the pyramid
and run into the desert. I will follow you. Run !”
We ran to the secret wall car and soon we were
out in the open. Fortunately we continued to run
away. Suddenly there came a deafening roar.
The earth shook and we were pitched down. It
seemed as though the world blew up.
When we arose Stewart turned and exclaimed.
“My God, look.”
We turned horror-stricken and saw that the
pyramid and the mastabas were no longer there.
Instead there was a great crater. Stewart stepped
shakily forward and then cried :
“Ali, Ali, my Ali.”
One hour later on board the transport and ac-
companied by a score of other planes we were on
our way to Cairo.
Sir Arthur had arrived with the bombing patrol
and had come to us after the explosion. In the
main cabin we told our tale, of how Ali wrecked
the “energy of matter control” and destroyed all.
Nefti said this is what Ali must have done; prob-
ably because Sais had found out that Stewait
and Peri were gone and was about to wreak his
vengeance. That final scene is known only to
God.
We told our tales again in Cairo and London.
The other headquarters of Sais were located with
the aid of Nefti and destroyed. Thus was brought
to a dramatic end the world’s greatest peril.
Stewart, Peri, myself and above all Nefti were
honored throughout the world.
Three months later Stewart married Nefti and
went to America. Peri went back to France and
became honorary director of the Louvre. I, my-
self, am able now to take life easy and am content
to rest peacefully in England.
THE END.
For the best in
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The Revenge
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osen
By Thomas H. Knight
S <» i}| ^
£ A 2 n 0
about
thooe eyes
and the
calculat-
ing stare
numbed
me at
first. But
I knew
what I
must da.
A S I stood by the open grave of old Captain
Jeremiah Taylor, I thought: “Well, there’s
one case of a man’s fears failing to mater-
ialize. There’s one man who didn’t die the way
he thought and feared he would.” ,
The gravel rattled down on the box envelop-
ing all that remained of the hardy old sea-dog.
And I wondered if the old fellow inside were
thinking it was a drummer from one of the
many dark comers of the earth he had spied
into tapping out some tribal message on his
weird tom-tom. Dimly I heard the monotonous
murmur of the minister, sing-songing the last of
the simple service. Then my imagination went
out and away over those seas of Captain Tay-
lor’s, looking into the unchartered ports and
lands the old chap had often yarned about.
By his own words he had been an adventurer,
his roving desire to look into things taking him
into many a tight place. I could see his wink
128
T hose who have traveled into the remote corners of our globe return with stories that appear
to the untraveled to he pure fiction. They speak of tribes, customs, animals, plants and civtli-
zations that seem to us impossible of existence in our more or less matter of fact age.
Yet, (ts our author shows, there are more things, to misquote Shakespeare, than are dreamed
of in science fiction. This story is so realistic, it might have occurred in actuality. The “ChosenT
are quite possible of existence, and so is their “messenger.’* As to the dread power of hypnosis
that they exercise, there is much dispute. We occidentals laugh off as “day dreamt* the talk of
strange powers over the mind possessed by many sects. But read this story raid be convinced that
what our author relates might have happened to any of us.
(Illustrated by Marchioni)
again ; hear his lowered voice as he told of deeds
that must be kept secret, deeds doubly thrilling
to the boy at his feet.
“This is a quiet old home, Jimmie,” he had
once said, pulling on his queer, long pipe.
129
“Nothin' happens here in this peaceful com-
munity. We get to thinkin’ the whole world’s
civilized and all clean above deck. But it
ain’t! I know some things. I’ve been into some
of the dark holes of the earth. I’ve seen witch-
ery and magic and — worse!
It’s hard to believe here among the flowers
130
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
and my old colored people, gentle and mild as
they are with their ardent and singin’ praise to
your God and my God, Jimmie,” he went on,
“that there are human devils loose in the world
who can pray their victims to death. You, with
your parties and your tennis and your makin’
eyes across the pews instead of listenin’, you
may want to laugh when I tell you that all they
need — ^those hellish, prayin’ priests — is a lock
of hair or such to mumble their prayers over.
Then, first thing you know, the owner of the
hair wilts and withers, and then he ‘goes away’.”
The old man nervously thrust his pipe back
between his teeth and quickly changed the sub-
ject, telling me of some sacred jewel that had
taken his fancy and that he in turn had taken
from the neck of an idol. I was only a boy when
he told me. It thrilled me to hear him relate
how he had to lie ail night in the gruesome tem-
ple waiting for the dawn and the opening of
the doors that he might escape. But, boy though
I was, I could tell the old fellow was more than
just excited. There was fear behind his words.
Then, as my increasing years suggested other
reasons for my visits to the quiet
old southern home besides its hos-
pitality, the Captain came to re-
gard me less as a boy and more
one to whom he could talk as an
equal. The Captain and I stood
one evening on the lawn beneath
bright stars. I would rather have
been in the house from which
came the alluring tinkle of the
voices of the Captain’s two lovely
daughters. I was wasting my
time out there with that nervous
old sea rogue, but he held on to
me. Something was preying on
his mind.
“Jimmie,” he said, “this thing’s
gettin’ me.”
“What thing?” I asked. “I
don^ know enough about it one
way or another, but you’re foolish
to worry like this. Man alive. Captain Taylor!
Could anything be more peaceful than this old
home tonight? Come on, sir. I would rather
go in and dance with the ladies than ”
“You’re frank, you landlubber, if nothin’
else,” he laughed mirthlessly, “but you don’t
understand, my boy. Jimmie, I’m scared. They
don’t forget, I tell you! They never quit. I
wish I could put it back.” He shivered, and
though the night was warm, I shivered with
him. What was he talking about? Who were
they who never quit? Then he went on:
“Y’take a calm, peaceful night like this, just
when y’ought to be thinkin’ you’re safe, or else
not givin’ a thought to it, and then — ^then
I tell you that kind never quits! Yes, come on,
let’s go in.”
That had been a month or so ago. He had
not told his family these things, but they had
known he had been afraid of something, that
lately he seldom stayed alone, and that dark-
ness held a terror for him.
So rambled my brain as the dirt fell into the
grave. Some one plucked at my sleeve then and
I came out of my reveries to realize that the
burial was over. My thoughts, however, as I
helped the mourning family into their car, were
still upon the needless fear to which the old man
had surrendered himself.
“He spoiled his last days,” I thought, “with
his apprehensions. All this while he had been
afraid of some horrid, violent death, and instead
of it happening that way, he had died peacefully
in his bed. There’s nothing in that evil-eye or
witchcraft stuff he hinted at, anyway. All bosh !
Given a sick ^rain, heat and bad gin, and out of
the tropics comes some derelict, white with a
tale of a demon priest, for the world to swallow.”
The dirt was hardly smooth above the Cap-
tain’s body before we were again gathered
around that grave. Yet this second death did
not alarm us, nor did it cause us to believe there
was foul play. My sweetheart’s mother had long
been ailing, and it seemed to us who knew her
sweetness that she was merely carrying out her
•faithfulness when she quickly followed the sailor
into the one port he had never before made.
There was nothing strange about
her peaceful passing.
But when news came in a few
more days that George, the only
son, had died, everybody, even
those who knew nothing of the
Captain’s fears, murmured:
“Three in a row: there’s some-
thing wrong there!”
Mysterious Marks
was away from our little town
when I heard of George, but I
tied my throttle open and gave
my car her head. The Captain’s
fear was now upon me. I thought
of tracking, merciless priests, as I
rushed across the country, and I
knew I should hear desperate tid-
ings when I arrived.
I quickly found out that George had, as I was
sure he had, been murdered. Killed in broad
daylight, suddenly, under the very eyes almost
of the two sisters and the large number of ser-
vants about the home; yet not a trace of the
assassin had been seen. The local police were
stamping all over everything and each other,
accusing the servants of being guilty or at least
knowing who on the inside had done it. In my
rightful interest and new fear for the girls, I
hastily assumed as much charge of affairs as
the police would allow, and either by sheer luck
or perhaps because I was not quite so stupid as
they, I stumbled upon the only clue as yet un-
covered.
“What are those two marks, like punctures,
beneath George’s chin?” I asked, pointing to-
ward the body of the chap with whom I had
played football.
“What marks? Aw, them’s nothin’. Birth
marks prob’bly,” the local detective replied.
“Bess,” I asked gently of the girl I loved now
more than even, “did George — ^that is — had you
THOMAS H. KNIGHT
THE REVENGE OF THE CHOSEN
131
noticed marks like that on your brother lately?”
“No. And, Jimmie — mother had them too.
What does that mean?”
“That jest proves it,” broke in the local Sher-
, lock Holmes. “Didn’t I tell yer? Birth marks.
Like mother, like son — ”
“Shut up!” I interfered hotly. “Bess, do you
mean you saw marks like these on your
mother?”
“Yes. Both Ethel and I noticed them, but we
thought it was part — of — of — ^you know — ^the
undertaker.”
The autopsy when finally made showed that
George had died from a virulent, unknown poi-
son. And I knew in my heart that had they
looked beneath the whiskers around the Cap-
tain’s throat, also, more of those strange punc-
tures would have been found. I knew then that
the thing the Captain had been fearing was a
real thing. A cruel murdering thing that had
struck its death’s hand into the family three
times.
“Uncle Ebb,” I said to the faithful old colored
major domo of the house, “tell me all about it.”
“Nuthin’ to tell, Mr. Jimmie, only dat some
debbil’s loose in de ’ouse. Mr. Gawge had done
gone to ’is room to lie him down a spell. ‘Not
feeling’ so well. Uncle Ebb,” he says. Ah -wuz
standin’ heah. Look, dere’s ’is doah. Fust
thing ah knows ah heerd a scream. Lawdy,
whut a scream I Ah went a-runnin’. Ah knows
he needed me. But, ah wuz too late. If ah’d
knowed den whut ah knows now, ah never would
a-went so brave, but when ah got dere he wuz
gone. De winder wuz open. Down in de yawd
Mike wuz a-washin’ de car. ‘Which way’s he
went?’ I yelled. ‘Didern’t come,’ Mike yelled
back. ‘Must be in de ’ouse.’ So, dere y’are, Mr.
Jimmie.”
“Yes, that’s what they say. Uncle Ebb,” I said.
“You claim he didn’t escape through the house;
Mike says he didn’t come out the window.”
“Mike, are you sure he didn’t slip out over
this roof?” I asked a moment or two later.
“No, Mr. Jimmie, I’m not,” he answered. “But
I was sure once. And I’ve sworn on oath that
he didn’t come this way. I’ve always believed
I was fairly sane, but — ^if he didn’t go out
through the door into the house with all the folks
there swearing he didn’t, then he must have come
this way. But, by blazes, he didn'tl”
“Where were you?”
“Right here. Washing the car. The moment
I heard him scream, I grabbed a wrench and
waited. I knew it was bad. He wasn’t the kind
to cry easily, was he? I kinda knew it was mur-
der. But he didn’t come! No sir! I swear it!”
I told the police of my sinister fears, but they
laughed at me. I started to tell them some of
the hints the Captain had dropped about vood-
ooism and witchcraft, but they asked me what
blood and thunder had I been reading. Then,
they left us, promising to take it up again in
the morning.
In the morning! Left us for the night in that
rambling old house with a year of darkness upon
us! I feared the hastening night now as the
Captain had feared them. Three deaths, one af-
ter the other; two sweet girls alone remaining of
the marked family, one of them my own adored
sweetheart, and I alone to stand between them
and — and — what? “What was it that lurked
and pounced and killed so quickly? That killed
in the open, beneath many eyes, and yet could
not be seen?” my staggering brain wondered.
The shaking Uncle Ebb and some of his hench-
men stood guard at the door of their mistress’
room while I, heavily armed, watched their
window from the lawn. It was a superbly clear
night, the moon a ball of silver. No creeper
could have climbed to their window without my
having seen him or tearing him to pieces with
the charge from my gun. But nothing happened,
and at last dawn came.
A Challenge
T WO days and night of fear and unrest
passed; then, the postman, innocent med-
ium, brought us a letter containing a warning.
Just a few words they were on a small square of
brown linen, the threat lettered in ink. “Place
the Green Heart on the sundial tonight, else
thou, too, shalt die. — The Chosen of Aracas,”
was all it said, but it threw the girls into a panic
of fear.
We hunted the house through for anything
that might have looked like a sacred “Green
Heart” but we found nothing, though the home
was full of trinkets and souvenirs from the dark
sink-holes of the earth. But for all our fear, I
managed to find in the note a cause to buoy up
my sinking courage a bit.
“It’s going to be another clear night,” I said
to the girls, every bit as hopefully as I felt.
“We’ll fix up a package for the sundial, and
when he comes to get it — well, the chosen son
of whoever it is’ll send no more warnings. Ebb
and Mike and I’ll fix him.”
Ebb stood again that night at the door of the
room which sheltered the girls we three would
protect to the last ditch; while Mike and I sta-
tioned ourselves at two different windows. The
lawn lay beneath us like a stage in a spotlight.
The sundial and the package stood out staring-
ly. Mike had a pump gun loaded with big shot,
and I held a heavy rifle. If he came, he would
not stand a chance. I knew I could not miss
him, and I knew my heavy bullet would about
cut him in two. But, would he come?
As the night went along I began to doubt it.
He’d be a fool if he did. But so full of fear was
I becoming for my dear one, that if he did come,
I would draw a line on him, make sure I had him
right, and then I would tear loose at him!
One or two light fleecy clouds crossed the
moon, but the resulting lacy shadows on the
lawn were no cover for a creeper. I stood wider
awake, held my rifle in faster readiness, wished
he would risk it and make a rush for it, but he
did not.
And yet — and yet — ^in a little while I knew
something had happened. I hardly knew what
it was at first, my brain refusing to believe that
the sundial had been visited. But it couldn’t be
denied for long. The top of the sundial was dif-
ferent! The box had gone!
132
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
Had I been watching the lawn alone that
night, I should have been forced to believe I had
dozed for a moment or two, but there was Mike,
too. He had not slept, even if I had. Next day
his face was white and drawn, and he refused to
be left alone. He could understand no more
than we could a thief who came and went with-
out being seen, while anxious watchers closely
watched.
Three days passed. Three long-drawn days of
fear and wonder. Then we had another note
on the square of linen again demanding the
“Green Heart” — a last warning. And becaiTse
we had been unable, despite our desperate ef-
forts, to unearth the thing, we felt we were in-
deed in our last trench. Weary from loss of
sleep and the horror of the intangible, hanging
death, I was at my wits’ end, frayed and worn,
and ready to try anything.
“Tonight,” I told them as shadows began to
fall and the horror of another year of darkness
encompassed us, “tonight must finish things up.
Here’s my plan. I admit it’s desperate, but we’ve
got to do something. We’ll put out another
package, and Ebb and Mike and I’ll watch. You
girls will go to bed, (or pretend to), fully
dressed; and I’ll watch from your room. Your
window will be open. When he finds for the
second time that the package is a fake, maybe
he’ll — I hope he comes to your window. If he
does. I’ll be there ready. What do you say?
Can you trust me?
They assured me they did, to the limit. “We’ll
do anything,” they said, “to get it finished.” So,
just as an extra precaution, in case I should nod,
I stretched a fine thread across the open, in-
viting window. Anyone creeping through would
break the thread and drop an attached weight
into a metal pan. But I should not need the
alarm, for not even the devil, himself, could
catch me napping that night! No, by Jupiter!
Not with the kind of visitor I would be expect-
ing. I only hoped for one chance at him. All
I wanted was the murdering dog across my
sights for a short moment!
At last the lights were all out, the house in
apparent peaceful sleep, the bait on the sundial,
and I sitting in a deep shadow beside the bed
in which the two girls lay huddled together.
“What trust they must have in me,” I thought,
as minutes and hours and time itself hung still.
“And what a fool I was!” I muttered when af-
ter a seemingly long while a wary glance at the
mocking, lighted face of my watch told me how
little of the night had actually passed. Could
we stand it? How long before the girls would
be in hysterics, and I myself shouting to Ebb to
flood on the lights?
The moon was full again, not even a puff of a
cloud in the sky. I could see the sundial plain-
ly, could see that the box was still there. The
clock in a distant steeple flung its passage of
creeping hours across that silver-white night,
while I knew, completely, what an imbecile pro-
tector I had been to the girls vainly trying to
stifle their sobs beside me. And while they
sobbed I waited. Waited for some human devil
or some uncanny, weird, ghostlike, wisp of a
thing to come creeping in to administer its death
through two little blue holes beneath the jaw!
Only a hard-dying pride made me hold to my
purpose.
A Long Vigil
T ime had completely forgotten to move some-
where in between the chimes of the early
morning when, suddenly, my heart jerked hard
into my ribs! What was it? I had heard noth-
ing real, yet there pounded my heart— thump,
thump, thump. I felt it coming, whatever it was.
The girls gave no sign of having heard, but I
knew it was coming up over the porch roof be-
neath the window!
It was too bright a night, really, for a creeper
to have crept past Mike’s eyes, if not my own,
but he must have done it for my rackety heart
knew he was near. Then I steadied. My finger
slipped in on the trigger of the automatic rifle.
The fierce clenching with which my nervous-
ness had gripped the stock left me. I was cool.
Now if he would only come the full distance!
My eyes burned from my straining staring,
and I blinked and held them closed to wipe
away the dryness. When I saw things clearly
again, I saw there was a shadow on the window-
sill. I reaised my weapon. He should have it
at my first sight of him ! Then I knew that the
shadow was not a shadow, or else had changed
from a shadow into a smoky-colored rat. A huge
rat. God, what a size it was !
It was ironical. It was mockery. A moment
before I had been keyed up and expectant, be-
lieving the shadow to be the forerunner of a
beastly murderer, and that my time — and his —
was at hand ; while instead, it had turned out to
be merely a huge, overgrown, filthy rat. But I
was much relieved. Now that the strain was
over I was glad I had nothing but such a harm-
less thing to contend with. I leaned quietly for-
ward to shoo the animal away.
But suddenly I stopped! That thing on the
sill turned its head. It drew more of its body
on the sill. Then I saw it was not a monstrous
rat, but a 1 groped to name it an In-
dian mongoose ! Fear took me again.
The eyes of the creature rested on the precious
occupants of the bed, and there the cruel gaze
remained. Something about those eyes and
that calculating stare numbed me at first, but
then like a flash came the knowledge that here
was — here was — ^the murderer! “Perhaps, af-
ter all,” hammered my keen or crazy brain, “it
was not even a mongoose.” But I knew what I
must do. I was on the point of pressing the
trigger when, light as a snow-flake, it dropped
into the room. Half way across to the bed it
stopped its steady, sneaking way to gaze again
at the girls, and that fearful beast, twice as
large as a mongoose I was sure now, with its
long, pointed, horrible nose — and its eyes! —
and its tail as large and as flat as a beaver’s,
made my blood chill within me. I looked into
its eyes, looked through them it seemed into the
brain beneath, and in my well-nigh delirious
foolishness, believed the brain behind those
eyes to be human !
THE REVENGE OF THE CHOSEN
133
It was gently slithering up the bed-post before
I came to myself. Then I loosed my hot metal.
My first shot tore it from its hold, my second
hurled it across the floor, and the third blasted
it, shattered, into a comer of the room.
No need to dwell upon the pandemonium that
ensued. Lights flashed on and Ebb and I car-
ried the younger girl and helped Bess into the
library, and there we huddled until daylight. In
the morning we carried that horrid thing to a
nationally-known naturalist who lived out of
town a mile or two, and the decision handed
down by Professor Hardy made of me not just
a slayer of vermin, but something of a hero.
“This is a menagause,*' explained the old gen-
tleman excitedly. “Very rare. Very rare, in-
deed. We’ve heard of these beasts, but I doubt
if another living naturalist has evert seen one. I
am indeed fortunate. You undoubtedly have
cleared up the mystery. See ! Here are his poi-
son sacs. Nothing more virulent than this. Kills
in a moment. And here, see, are his fangs.
Two. These caused the punctures beneath the
jaw that ’’
“No thanks. Professor,” I interrupted, “that’s
all I care to see. Take my advice. Handle him
with steel-lined gloves. Good-bye. I’ve had all
I want with the thing.” I left him then glad I
had been able, so unexpectedly, to supply the
naturalist with such a rare specimen. But I was
far from being satisfied. At first flush of ex-
citement it had seemed as though I had rounded
up the murderer, but now upon second thoughts
it was certain that the beast, well-trained as he
may have been, had not been writing notes!
No ! ! The creature I had killed had only been
the medium of death. The instrument of the
real poisoner. The question then was, did the
killer, (this “Chosen of Aracas”), have another
such instrument of vengeance?
Then there was that other thing that persisted
in bothering me. That ghastly thing that I kept
to myself ^those eyes and the brain I believed
I had seen behind them! It was a horrible
thought, and foolish, but I could not throw it off.
Days passed, slow days, while we guarded the
girls and took every precaution, and waited for
his next move. I was far from being myself. Not
only were my nerves tearing apart, but the loss
of sleep was using me up. When I did fall into
a chair, I slept at once. I dozed leaning against
the doors or while talking. But it was never a
real sleep ; more like a harrowing anaesthetic or
drug slumber — never refreshing me. My dreams
were a continual mixture of the wonderful love
with which I loved Bess, and which I dreamed
she reciprocated, and a nightmare of the beast
I had killed. That creeping menagause had left
its indelible impression on my brain, and there it
ate into me.
At first they were just nightmares through
which the beast crawled back and forth; but
after a while it harassed me, clawed me,
scrambled all over me, and reached for under my
jaw. I became even afraid to go through the
house alone for fear of meeting it. I knew then
I was losing my mind.
A Clue at Last
W HEN I grew thin and the stare from my
eyes frightened them, they called a doctor.
He was doctor enough to know that I was sick;
that I would collapse if something were not done,
but what it was that ate at me was where his
diagnosis had to stop. Sometimes, especially af-
ter a severe spell, I would be particularly clear-
minded, and then I would see something that at
another time would have given me a thrill of
satisfaction. Bess was not just mothering me,
worrying with me, fearfully alarmed for me,
merely because she was a loyal little soldier
sticking to a pal, but because she was growing
to . But, I thrust this lovely thought from
me. A madman was not the sort to think of love
and such a superb girl as Bess.
They kept the news from me when another
piece of linen came. But in one of my clear
spells, seeing the new fear in the lovely eyes of
Bess, and demanding to know the reason, they
showed it me. I took it in my hands, but so
quickly was my brain likely to change in those
days, that even before I had read the lettering it
carried, I was, in a dreamy, vaporish way, back
in France again up in the clouds. High in the
blue of it, far above the battle below, with a
metal-pouring German on my tail. I dived in
that crazy dream of mine, swung on my joy-
stick, came back at him with my sights on his
fuselage, and turned loose my death through the
blade. He went down with a rush, and I — com-
ing from my dream with a jerk — read the note:
“You have killed my emissary,” it read, “but
there will soon be another!” “Emissary,” I
laughed; “he calls that stinking thing, that
crawling brute with the fangs that just fit under
your jaw an emis ” They led me away; sor-
row in their eyes.
No wonder it had all been so uncanny. No
wonder the murderer had been able to creep and
kill and take our box from the dial from under
our gaze. The more I thought about the horrid
mess, the moreT became convinced that the real
brute we fought had somehow changed a human
into an animal! A crouching animal that had
struck and hidden behind a chest or up in the
drapes of George’s room; a flitting thing that
had been a shadow as it came to the dial for the
box.
I was alone in my room with these thoughts,
and as I brooded over them more and more, I
came to know that the chosen brute of “Aracas”
had indeed spoken truth when he said there
would soon be another, for it came into my room!
Another menagause ! ! It crossed the floor. It
clambered at my bed; or, if it did not, my tor-
tured brain (completely crazy) believed it did!
It came across the covers to me; took me by
the throat! I reached lazily to brush it away,
but instead, finding it soft and warm and nice to
touch, I stroked it. It was not nearly so odious
after all, my dazed brain thought. In fact it
was so nice that I should not greatly mind if I,
too, were a menagause. Slowly I stepped from
the bed. Half fighting it, yet eager to do it, I
went down on my hands and knees, sniffing.
134
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
creeping. On the back of my hands, on my arms,
I believed, I saw the hair growing and coarsen-
ing and changing to a crinkly furl I was chang-
ing into a beast!! Being transformed into a
menagause !
Ebb found me there, snapping and snarling,
and it was the last straw to him. He yelled and
slumped down along the door-frame. Bess came,
but it was too much for her, also. However, my
plight acted differently upon her than it had
upon the dark man. She may have been as
frightened, but something suddenly beat at her
heaii; that had not pounded at Ebb’s. And it
was her sudden outpouring of other than moth-
ering love that saved me. “It must have been
loathsome for her to kiss my furry cheek and
lips,” I still managed to think as they lifted me',
“but she did it.” A soothing coolness fanned
me. I slept then, a real sleep, the first, it seemed,
for years, and I awoke next morning nearly nor-
mal. The love of Bess had overpowered the ter-
rible thing that had been, gnawing at me.
I had Ebb bring me again that last note we
had received, and as before, the moment I had
it in my hands I was back at the stick of a ship,
with the glint of sun on wing and rudder and
singing wire, the roar of engine and blade in my
ears. But this time my brain was my own! I
lifted that square of linen to my nostrils, and
knew on the instant why I bad unconsciously, or
subconsciously that other time, thought again
of my flying days in France. I smelt “dope.”
Dope, that shellac-like composition with which
airplane wings are coated.
I grabbed the astonished darky by the front
of his coat, “Elbb,” I fairly shouted, “is there an
airplane factory around here?”
“Airplane factory? Good lawd. Boss! Nos-
sir, nossir. Whut would we be doin’ v/id a — ?”
“Ebb, have you ever seen a plane?”
‘Tessir.”
“Where?”
“Dey fly ovuh real offen — sometimes.”
“Did one ever land here, or smash, or anyone
ever build one? Is there one in town?”
“Yessir, yessir, dar is. Now I ’member. Young
Mr. Brown broke his fool neck in one down on
Market Street. It’s still dar I reckin in dat ole
shed of Grimeses’, or leastways it wuz ”
“Ebb, get the car around for me. Don’t
leave the ladies out of your sight for a moment.
Tell Mike what I’m doing. If ansrthing happens
to the ladies while I’m gone. I’ll murder you
both.”
The Trap
I went through town like mad, and by the tinie
the police had decided to wonder what some
of it was all about, I was peeking into the old
shed of Grimes and looking on the wreckage of
an old army training plane. Man ! I was eager
and excited. On the trail at lastP The brute
who had been using the airplane linen for his
notes, and who had no way of knowing that a lit-
le “dope” would give him away, lived here-
abouts. I would find him, and finding him,
would kill him. In this great desire of mine to
tear into the cause of all our recent miseries, I
had forgotten he was above the average killer.
That part of town had always been taboo to
me as a boy, and I was, therefore, not any too
well acquainted. But when I saw a dark-skinned
man in the long, flowing robes of an East In-
dian priest standing in the doorway of a squalid
house, I knew he was my man. His eyes dragged
me on. I went right at him. Without a word,
merely the clash of our eyes flinging their hot
challenges, he turned and entered the house. I
followed. I did realize a bit then that I might be
putting my head into a nest of hornets, but I held
something in my hand in which I had implicit
faith, and all I wanted was to get him within de-
cent range. What did I care, as 1 followed him
in, that he had once before deadened my brain
and almost made of me a tiling that crept and
sniffed across tbe floor? The gun I held in front
of me had no brain to be dazed, knew no dif-
ference between a voodooist and an ordinary be-
ing.
My first glance into that dim interior showed
me that I was in a pet shop, where monkeys and
parrots in their cages gibbered away an excuse -
for this brute to be in a peaceful town pursuing
his real, evil trade. On the counter in its cage
was an Indian mongoose. It gave me a jerky
scare, but next moment I had forgotten it as I
approached a heavy curtain that divided the
room, and as I came closer to the completion of
the work in hand.
I pushed through that curtain, as cautiously as
I possibly could, eyes keenly before me. But I
was not keen enough, ’fhe curtain came down
from the ceiling like a heavy, stifling cloud to
envelop me in its folds as completely as though
I were beneath a load of sand. Hands snatched
at me, many hands it seemed, to carefully take
me from the tangle and weight of it to bind me
securely, hands behind back, and to fling me in
a heap against the wall. Then I knew they had
me. I had walked into his trap, the curtain had
sprung it ; and, found like a trussed fowl, I found
time to realize what a hot-headed idiot I had
been.
I looked around. My pistol was on a table,
while four black-skinned and blacker-hearted
brutes stood over me. At a sign from their
leader the three myrmidons went into a rear
room, leaving the priest squatting on the floor
before me. When he spoke he used good English
and I had no trouble in understanding either his
words or his meaning.
“Dog, and twice dog, hear me,” he began.
“Thou who wouldst interfere with the plans of
the ‘Chosen of Aracas’, as a man thy days are
finished. Thy brain hath almost ceased its own
functioning. Henceforth thou shalt heed my
commands. I had thee in my power once before,
knew thou wert almost mine, then — what, I am
at a loss to know — something interfered. For
the first time my skill was thwarted. Now,
nothing shall interfere! Thou art mine. Thou
shalt go forth from here with thy man’s cunning
and brain in an animal body to wipe away the
last of that accursed family!”
THE REVENGE OF THE CHOSEN
135
My brain whirled. I had known it, but as he
said it, it was worse than I had fully realized.
I, to go out from here at his bidding, to crawl
through the night, to hunt the girl I adored, and
who loved me, to — ^to — . I could not think of it.
It was too horrible, too devilish ! He looked me
straight in the eye, and I heard the first of his
fiendish incantation. I shut my eyes, but could
not keep them so. I opened them, drawn to the
magnets of his, to feel the old terror and close-
ness and liking for the menagause creeping
over me.
“They have no ‘Green Heart’ I” I shouted, in
that last flicker or two of my own brain’s reas-
oning. “We’ve hunted for it. We’d give it to
you if we had it. Come to the house. Take —
take — anything you want, but let me go!”
But he was past hearing me. His eyes were
shut now, his mumbling and praying — praying
me into a furry creature ! — roaring and crashing
In my ears. I had been through all this once
before, so knew by the sensation that enveloped
me that he was succeeding in his praying. I
knew in a few moments I should be seeing the
beast come sneaking in; then I should grow to
like it, would reach out for it, would see the hair
on my hands and arms before me change to fur,
and —
“Bess !” I cried. “Bess! Help me! You saved
me before, save me now. I love you, Bess,” I
whispered like a child ; then fell back exhausted.
I was nearly gone. And how could Bess help me ;
how could she save me when she could not even
hear me?
I felt that beast come crawling to my wrists
behind me, as I knew it would, felt my bonds,
strangely enough but part of the whole diaboli-
cal proceeding of course, slacken. I brought my
arms around into my lap, still not knowing I
was free. Then perhaps I realized a bit, for the
first time, that instead of the menagause at my
bonds it was the mongoose. In the scuffle the
cage must have flung to the floor, where it had
either broken or the door swung open to release
the animal.
Not that I stopped to wonder at these things,
for at that moment the priest before me opened
his eyes. They bulged when he saw I was no
longer tied, really telling me for the first time
that I was actually free. He clapped his hands.
At once his threo servitors rushed back into the
room. Then life and thought and the desire to
live came to be in a flash, and I leaped to my
feet and jumped for the pistol on the table like a
snake striking. We all reached for it, but by a
hair I got it. Then, with the thing at their
breasts, I backed them into a comer. I felt bet-
ter. It was good to draw, so suddenly, such an
ace from the deck. With a wave of the hand the
priest gave them an order in their native tongue,
then they came at me with their naked knives.
The End Of a Priest
TAND back !” I ordered. “Tell ’em to stand
O back, you heathen devil, or I’ll tear ’em in
two!” But he ignored me, merely urging them
onto me. They crept closer until just feet separ-
ated us. In a moment they would spring and I
would fire. The odds were all in my favor now,
and they deserved anything they had coming to
them, but why it was that I wished I had not to
turn death loose on them is more than I can ex-
plain. I wanted to get the priest, but I felt it a
bit of a shame to have to slaughter the others.
“Stay back! Not another step. I’ll kill you if
you — ” Then I did it. One sprang at me and I
had to. The bullet met him in midair, and not
literally but actually hurled him back. It was
a large weapon I wielded — a brute of a killer.
I knew the man was as good as dead the moment
he hit the floor. So, evidently, did he, for he
reached into his robes and produced a green,
shining object, which he held up to the priest b^r
its golden chain. Like a hawk that “chosen one,”
hovering near, snatched it. His whole body
radiated joy, success, venom.
“Thou dog!” he snarled through his pleasure.
“It is the ‘Green Heart!’ How happens it that
thou hast it?”
“The Sahib Taylor — placed it — after — ^first
warning. I — I would place it around the throat
of Aracas with — ^with — mine own hands. I had
a box — empty — ^the one I gave you as being the
Sahib’s ”
“Dog! Deceiver! Swine!” hissed the priest.
He kicked the man full in the face, hurrying him
along the road to eternity.
And that kick restored to me a little sense,
flung around me a wild killing rage. Everything
about that kick and them was horrible. Jere-
miah Taylor had delivered the jewel at the first
warning, I knew then, but because of the fana-
tical desire of the man I had shot to return the
beastly jewel to the sacred throat with his own
hands, three innocent lives had been taken, two
girls had been to the brink of insanity through
fear ; while I had been closer than at knife’s edge
to being prayed into an animal that crawled and
sniffed and punctured !
The priest gave another order, to hold me at
bay I suppose, then quick as a flash, passed out
the rear door. The two men sprang at me. I
met the first with a bullet just as I had his filthy
pal, but the other pinned me to the wall, his-
hand to my throat, while his knife arm flashed
back for the stroke. I pressed my pistol into
his side and let it go; then stepped across his
body to follow the priest.
The back of those houses overhung the river,
the rear porches built on stilts, like huge spider
legs, over the deep drop. The priest was scaling
the railing of a porch some thirty feet away. A
simple, vengeful shot. I brought my sights down
onto his back. The pistol spat its hate. The devil
was reaching for a hold above him as my shot
rang out. Twice his fingers clutched for a hold,
twice they missed. Then he wavered, hung a bit,
clutched again, missed completely. I leaned out
over my rail to watch his whirling flight to the
river below, feeling as he plunged that this world
was suddenly cleaner, and that the gates of hell
were clanking open for him. As he went over
and over, I saw a green thing, hanging by its
golden chain from his tightly clenched hand, go
whirling as he whirled.
136
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
Back through the house I staggered to find
the front pavement bobbing and tossing and
plunging as the priest had plunged. Then it
came up spitefully at me, hit me — and I was in a
machine with someone’s loving arms closely
holding me when next I knew what was going
on. I was weak, but it was a gentle, soothing
weakness, and my mind was free, my heart full.
“Are you all right?” asked the splendid girl
in whose love I was smothering.
“Just as well as you hope I am, Bess darling,”
I replied. “The priest is gone ; the jewel is gone ;
your troubles are over. Everything but our love.”
THE END
Between Earth and Moon
{Continued from Page 59)
In the hall of the Allister house, the same hall
in which a month ago the friends of the rocket
had been seized with despair, a small group of
notables was assembled.
About the house surged the happy shouting
mob.
“Hurrah for Allister!”
“Hurrah for Apel and Egon Helmstatter!”
And then there was a still louder shout: “Hur-
rah for the United States of America, and hurrah
for Germany!”
“Mr. All Right, one hundred thousand dollars
for the first report.”
Mr. Barret, the owner of the New York Evening
Ledger, was holding out a check to the invalid.
Another pushed him aside.
“The New York Bulletin offers a quarter of a
million.”
Barret scribbled fast. “You are employed by
me, and I too will give a quarter of a million.”
Others crowded about Korus, but he declined
their offers.
“Only Germany gets my first report.”
Barret climbed up on a table. “One moment,
gentlemen. Permit me a word. It is self-evident
that the entire world, and America first, has a
claim on the five travellers of space. It will be a
triumphal journey like no other before. I will
conduct it. If you pledge yourselves for a half
year, I will take you all over the world and pay
you any sum you want.”
Now Egon jumped on another table. He had
hardly spoken since leaving the rocket.
“I thank you. In the general rejoicing for us,
what else could we five say but ‘I thank you’?
What Mr. Korus and Mr. All Right want to do ia
their own concern. They are journalists and
stand in the public eye. But I and my fatherly
friend Waldemar Apel are going to fly to Atkin-
son Peak to-day. Fate has been kind enough to
let us return home. Now it is our duty to work
out scientifically what mankind can benefit
from as the result of our trip. I thank you, but
at present we have no time to give to celebra-
tions.”
The President of the United States pressed
Egon’s hand. “You are in truth a real hero.”
Egon smiled. “Perhaps I am only a thorough
German.”
The ambassador of his native land pressed him
to his heart. “Let us rather say, a true German.”
On the flat roof of the Allister house an air-
plane was waiting. It was a large plane which
America presented to Egon to welcome his re-
turn.
Apel was already sitting in it. Likewise Joe
Allister, who was of course accompanying the
two with his daughter.
Then a strange gentleman came up the steps.
It was an elderly gentleman in a black suit.
Allister smiled, as he now said, “The Reverend
Mr. Thompson will accompany us.”
Irene Allister blushed and clung to her father,
while the latter pressed Egon’s right hand.
“I think we shall have to celebrate a little
wedding at Atkinson Peak.”
While the airplane was rising upward, the
loudspeakers all over the earth were announcing
the return of the first persons who had succeeded
in reaching the moon and the fortunate arrival
of the space rocket.
THE END
i
Read These Thrilling Stories in the October Issue of
AMAZING DETECTIVE TALES
ON SALE SEPTEMBER ISth
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The dread power of a beautiful blossom of Nature.
THE MAN WHO WAS DEAD By Arthur B. Reeve
Unlocking the dead man’s lips to unravel a mystery
DEA'TH IN A DROP By Ralph W. Wilkins
Professor Macklin solves a new. “impossible crime’’
THE CLASP OF DOOM By Eugene De Reszke
His touch was death , . . this modem Borgia
MURDER IN THE FOURTH DIMENSION By Clark Ashton Smith
The most bizarre murder ever committed
THE MOST DANGEROUS OF FORGERIES By Dr. Edmond Locard
This famous criminologrist gives us the “inside story’’ of daring criminals
gambling with their skUl for fortunes.
And other stories and features in this unusual issue
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
137
SEXUAL
EDUCATION
SERIES
VOLUMES. LIBRARY SIZE.
BOUND IN HNE RED CLOTH. GOLD STAMPED
By DAVID H. KELLER, MJ).
Aislstant Superintendent, H'estern State
pital, Bolivar, Tenn.
Ten Volumes tor the
Usual Price ot One Book
ONLY
$2.9S
THE SET
Dr. Keller was chosen by the publishers of these
volumes as being one of the few physicians in
America who could write on »o delicate a subject
in language that even a ^ild could understand.
Heretofore, educational sex books have been writ-
ten by professionals, usually in such technical
language that the non-professional reader conld
not understand it. Consequently, the Sexual Edu-
cation Sekics can be rc£id by anyone; as a mat-
ter of fact, much of the subject matter has been
written for young people.
While writing tlMse books Dr. Keller wrote a
long letter to the publishers, part of which fol-
lows.
"Afy idea is to write m simple langitage,
ttf o conversational or lecture style; or to
nse the language of my *just as you
talk to usf My wife is a college graduate
and taught eight years in the High Schools of
the South, One daughter is preparing to
study medicine and the other is just about
to graduate from ojir local High School, and
2 consider their advice and opinion as a very
good index of the average mentality of our
expected readers. My ultimate aim is to make
the world a little better place to livo in by
educating the masses along the lines which
have previously been inaccessible to them. In
writing, I am going to keep in mind THAT
IVE WANT TO HELP FOLKS TO BE*
COME HAPPIER.**
Most of the misery and suffering In human
life can be directly attributed to sex misinforma-
tion. Dr. Keller, in these books, offeis a solution
for this evil as well as for other and perhaps
greater evfls. The author knows bis subject as
few other physicians in the country know it, and
S 3 a wetl-^own author, be is able to write in
Such a way that there is nothing offensive, evsn
for the most unsophisticated of yottng girls.
Parents have not as yet arrived at the state
where they can be perfectly frank in matters of
sex with their children. But henceforth, Dr. Kel-
ler’s valuable books can be safely cntriisted to
all intelligent young people. The older genera-
tion, themselves, will End much of value in the
series.
There is little question but that these books
will become famous, will blaze a new trail. They
will be read and reread for more thorough com-
prehension of the subject matter involved. The
Sexual Educational Sekxes gives you facts and
knowledge contained in the highest type of liter-
ature, with the exception that it is written down
to the understanding of the every-day man and
woman, girl and boy. The excellent anatomical
drawings, which are profusely distributed through
these books, are sc mechanically treated that they
will never arouse the sensibilities of even the
greatest prude, yet, they are an education in them-
selves. Dr. Keller has tom the veil of mystery
from sex matters snd presented to the American
public the true facts of sexual life. He has de^
bunked sex.
These books are printed in brand new type, the
subject matter has never been published before.
A cumber of volumes are profxtsely illustrated
with Ene anatomical drawings. The size of esch
volume is 4" X 6^"— just right for your pocket.
Special grade of egg-sheU paper used. Each volume
has 160 pages, 1600 pages in all. GOLD STAMPED.
Fill in the coupon
today. Regardless
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cannot afford to be
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and your mbn^
will DC refunded.
YOU ARE THE
SOLE JUDGE.
MAIL THE
Partial
CONTENTS
I BOOK 1
Sex aad Family Through the Aj^es
BscUifiins of Life. — The PrialUre Hocno.—
Natural BalectloiL— Yarteliea of Married Ll(e-~
The ProeUlute. — Wom«n'a Sozutl Poeltioo Be-
fore Christ. — Woisan's Sexual PosIUod In Europe
and America. — ^Feminine lodependeDce.— The
Pursuit of Bawineu.->The UnlTerast PsDSoes.
BOOK 2
The Sexual E<hication of the
Young Man
Father and Son. — R^ation of the Touns Man
tc Society. — The Anatomy of the Touug Man.— >
The Sexual Physioiogy of the Youns Man.*—
Bysieoe of the SexBsl Life. — Norma] Vlevpoiat
of Young Man. — Pruatltutimi. — The Cost of Im-
morality. — mn Queattoo of Disene.*— What s
Young Man BboulJ Know About Women.—
Youth I'rlendablps. — A Living Programme.
BOOKS
The Sexual Education ot the
Young Woman
Mother and l>«jghter. — HUiorv of the Teens
OlrL— The Olrl’e OhllntloBi to Soclot,.— ifto
Anatomy of the Young Olrl. — ^Physlelw of the
Young Olrl. — Paydwlogy of the Young QlrL—
Hygiene af the Young Olrl. -The Question of
Proelltutlon.— The Coat of Immorallly.-:^h«
Working Oir!.— What a Young Girl Should
Know AbouS Men.
BOOK 4
Lov e -— Courtshi p Mamsgf e
The Awakening of Lore.— The Growth of
Love Education. — Natural Selection. — The
Feminine Viewpoint of Engagement.— The Physl-
eal PwaratloD 'or Marriage. — Educatlcm in
Happiness.— AdJuaUnenti of Marriage. — The
Baby in the Heme.— The Perpetual HooeyDOOO.
BOOK 5
CompABionate Marriage
Birth Control
Divorce
The Reatlesftness of Society.— The Dawn of
liglon.— Marriage by Purchase.— The Relation of
Marriago to the State.— The Bexual Marriage.—
Companionate Marriage. — Birth Gonlr^.—
The Question of Dlrorce.— The BUbtl Of Ctdld-
hood.— The Happy Marriage.
BOOK 6
Mother and Bahy
What li o Baby W'orthf— The ^slology of
Pregnancy. — ^Preparing for the Baby.— PreDSfS-
tlooa for toe Confinement.— ^the Birth ot the
Baby.— The First Two Weeks.- Training tbo
Baby.— The Sick Baby.— The Sexual Eduettiea
of the Child.— Tbe Father of His Baby.
BOOK 7
Sexual DbeaM and Abnormalities
o( Adult Life
The Cause of Unhapolneu. — I
rheo.— — Autoerotlcism. . .
ual Life.— The Dark Conieri of Life.— Types of
Erotic I.lfe.— Impotency in the Man. — Sterility.
- Celibacy lu the Adult Male.— Celibacy in the
Adult Female.— The Normal Sex Life.
BOOK 8
Sexual Life of Men and Women
After Forty
The Dtngeroot Ago.— Hie Middle Aged Woman.
—The Middle Aged Man. — ^The Middle Aged
Celibate. — Widow and Widower.— Middle Age
and Divorce. — ^Dtaeases of Middle Life.— Hie
Fountain of Youth.— Secret of Youth.
BOOK 9
The Diwase and Problems of
Old Age
Old Age end lu ProblMns.— Th. Put TreU-
ment of the Aged. — Senile Decay. — The Sexual
Life in the Aged. — The Art of Prolonging
Youth. — Physical Disease of the Aged.— Celibacy
In the Ag^— Neglect of the Aged. — Growing
Old OraeetuUy.
BOOK 10
Sex and Society
Relation of the Individual to SMlsty. — ^Man’s
Konnal RoltUon to Society. — ^The I.egal Relatioa
of the Sexes. — Hlega! Sexual Relations Between
Sexes. — ^Abnormal Sexual Life. — Abnormal Re-
lations Between Parent and Child. — ^The Ab-
normal Sax Life of Slbllnga.— Erotldsm and
Modem Society. — Drug Addiction and Society.—
Hw Feebleminded and Society. — Hw Psycho-
pathic Peraooalltiea. — StmlUaatioa and Segre-
gatloo.
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WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
138
WILL ANOTHER ICE AGE
STRIKE THE EARTH?
“Summers are getting: colder,” think many people. “The recent
sunspot activity denotes a change of temperature on the earth,”
advises a noted scientist. Stories by famous authors visualize
cities of the future when streets and buildings will be covered by
insulated roofs. This illustration
depicts the earth and moon in
close proximity. Floods have
destroyed whole
continents — the
moon’s gravity
has drawn
oceans from
their beds, peo-
ple live in pro-
tected metal
dwellings and
travel from
planet to planet in radium-powered space
ships. When the moon, in the course of time,
slows down — this is how man must live,
WE WELL REACH THE MOON IN 1950!
So say competent observers of scientific developments in rocket-travelling. Within
twenty years the first interplanetary explorer will alight slowly on the moon’s
surface, using powerful liquid fuel rockets to propel and control his space ship.
As in Lindbergh’s transatlantic flight the world will cheer his intrepid adventure.
As in aviation history, regular communication will be rapidly established. Wall
Street concerns will hire men to work the mineral deposits in the new world. Ad-
vertisements for miners and clerks to live on the lunar planet will appear in the
“Help Wanted” advertisements of the daily papers. You can read amazing stories
of interplanetary travel in WONDER STORIES, on sale at all newsstands at 25c
the copy.
CONTENTS FOR THE OCTOBER ISSUE
MAROONED IN ANDROMEDA _
THE LIZARD MEN OP BUH-LO
’THE EMPIRE IN THE SKY
THE CITY ON THE CLOUD
PASTER THAN LIGHT!
-By Clark Ashton Smith
-By Francis Flagg
-By Ralph W. Wilkins
-By L. Taylor Hansen
-By J. Harvey Haggard
-By Norman J. Bonney
-By Frank J. Bridge
THE MAN WHO LAUGHS
THE WAR LORD OP VENUS
SCIENCE QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS
THE READER SPEAKS— LETTERS FROM READERS
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The Reader Speaks
In SCIENCE WONDER QUAR-
TERLY only letters that refer to
stories published in the QUAR-
TERLY will bo printed.
Four Stories Rated
Editor, Wonder Stories Quarterly.
I am a fourteen-year-old boy and
am a very enthusiastic reader of your
magazines. I have read your Won-
der Stories Quarterly ever since it
has been published. Of the main
stories in your first four issues, I
rank as follows:
(1) Moon Conquerors,
(2) The Stone From The Moon.
(3) Electropolis.
(4) T- - -
. , The Shot Into Infinity.
Your artist, Paul, is wonderful.
His illustrations are vivid and origin-
al.
Are any of the German scientific
films going to be shown in America?
Lester Carison,
1314 Cherry St., Aberdeen, Wash.
(We have received letters from
readers in which practically all of the
feature stories in the first four is-
sues of the Quarterly received the
highest rating. We would like to get
some more comments from our read-
ers._ Here we have four giant stories.
Which is the best according to your
opinion ?
We have information that an inter-
planetary film, “The Girl Prom the
Moon” filmed by the UFA company
of Germany is to come to America
soon. The picture has been practical-
ly completed, and it is even expected
that sound or talking sequences will
be a part of this great experiment in
motion pictures. We will inform our
readers just as soon as we have exact
information about the date at v'hich
the picture will be exhibited. — Editor)
On Utopias
Editor, Wonder Stories Quarterly,
After reading Lilith Lorraine’s
“Into The 28th Century” I have come
to the conclusion that there can never
be an Utopia. Incidently the author
mentions in a certain part that the in-
habitants of the future world spoke
of a stomach ache as if it were a
matter of international concern.
Would this not prove that of the
easier living conditions existed, the
people would correspondingly soften?
If a person of the middle ages, when
sanitary conditions were “null and
void”, when religious freedom was
unknown, when war and blood shed
were every day occurrences, were to
be placed in r modern civilization,
would he not consider it an Utopia?
It is only when the soul of man is
able to realize his blessings that
there will be an Utopia.
Charles Rush, Jr.,
2666 Grand Concourse,
New York.
(Mr. Rush puts a very interesting
question to us: There is a lot to be
said for his point of view — that If life
is made too easy for us we will soften
and degenerate and go the way of
Babylon, Eg^t, Rome and many
other great civilizations.
It is really necessary for each civil-
ization to provide its own antidote
for the evils that might be a part of
the pleasant state of life that Miss
Lorraine pictured in her “Into the
28th Century”. Miss Lorraine herself
had pointed out some of the possibili-
ties. Athletics, sports, exercise of the
(Continued on Page 139)
WONDER STORIES QOARTEREY
139
The Reader Speaks
(Continued from Page 138)
body are all considered in her Utopia
to be a part of the life of the people.
Thus the people keep physically ac-
tive, their minds remain alert, they
feel in another form the enlivening
spirit of competition.
Some of the militarists say that
war is a necessary part of our lives,
for without the awakening of the war-
like spirit every so often, man will
degenerate. Others agree with the
militarists but say that in strenuous
competitive sports man can work off
the energy that he would use in war.
What do our readers think? — Editor)
From A Youthful Savant
Editor, Wonder Stories Quarterly.
Just received my first copy of
Wonder Stories Quarterly and I’ll
say it was fine. R. H. Romans’ “War
of Planets,” although good, didn’t
make it that way, neither did “Elec-
tropolis”.
Henrik Dahl Juve’s “Monsters of
Neptune” pulled the issue up above
the mark. There was nothing wrong
with it except that question of grav-
ity. Neptune may weigh less, volunae
by volume, than earth, but there is
plenty of it on Neptune. I think the
gravity would be very great.
Juve’s story had humor, and so did
“Moon Rays,” by Keller, M.D. 'The
best humorous story in your Wonder
magazines was “Flannelcake’s Inven-
tion,” in “Air Wonder.” Speaking of
humor, why don’t you bother Edward
Elmer Smith, Ph.D., for a good one?
A while back you asked opinions on
time traveling. I don’t think it’s pos-
sible. If it could be done, it would
only be into the future. I’m only 16
year old, so you needn't take the fol-
lowing seriously:
The three Attributes of Infinity
are: time, space and motion. Space
has three dimensions; so have time
and motion. Matter is but a fold or
“bump” between space and motion,
with Time as a constant. The first
three dimensions are contained in
space, the fourth, fifth and sixth in
time, the seventh, eighth and ninth in
motion. One of the dimensions of mo-
tion reaches into all dimensions below
it, and so there is motion in time di-
mensions and space dimensions. One
of time’s dimensions reaches into
space, so matter, while it may have
motion in space, has motion in one
of the dimensions of time also. To
travel in time, jump over into an-
other dimension and bounce back.
That’s one of the “twisters” in my
brainstorm. I haven’t finished think-
ing it out yet (!) but that’s the main
structure of it. I wrote a story about
it, but copied too many other authors.
Now I’m on a start story of about
3,000 words and assuming a future of
so many years instead of sending the
hero tlurough time.
Concerning atomic energy: I be-
lieve it possible, not by breaking down
atoms and getting the energy of the
rushing electrons, but by letting ele-
ments combine, producing rays as
molecules produce heat when combin-
ing, and thus expanding, as com-
pound-molecular gas does under heat.
Atoms when combining would prob-
ably produce X-rays of terrific force.
Some authors say nothing can go
faster than light. How about elec-
trons in a Coolidge tube, going well
over 250,000 miles per second?
At the left 1« » view of
my dr«flln* ep«ci-
ficatloii offices where s
large staff of eiperlencea
experts U In my constant
employ. All drawings ana
apeciffcations are pro*,
ygied in my officot.
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140
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
Scientific Magic
Becomes Actual Fact
It will be easy for you
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The Man Who Was Dead by Arthur B. Reeve
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is locked in the lips of a man without life.
The answer we cannot tell you witborat destroying the thrill you will receive as you read page after
page of this masterpiece of Arthur B. Reeve. But rest assured, that Craig Kennedy is using the
most amazing instruments of science to ferret out the mystery ho is engaged in. and if it is humanly
possible he will triumph.
OTHER STORIES IN THE
OCTOBER ISSUE
THE CAREWE MURDER MYSTERY by Ed Earl Repp
DEATH IN A DROP by Ralph Wilkins
THE MAN IN ROOM 18 by Otis Adalbert Kline
THE CLASP OF DOOM by Eugene De Reszke
Can mechanical ROBOTS destroy our fortresses against crime? “YES!” say thought-
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The Reader Speaks
(Continued from Page 139)
Like Nikola Tesla, I don’t believe
light or any other ray travels in
waves through the “ether”. I believe
that rays are waves of motion es-
caping from matter.
Concerning gravity: Gravity is an
electro-magnetk wave which in empty
space would vibrate in all directions,
but in the presence of a body of mat-
ter, has some vibrations interfered
with. Two bodies interfere with part
of these vibrations, and, as the bal-
ance of energy is disturbed, the bodies
are pushed together. Theoretically,
gravity can be artificially interfere
with. Probably, it most certainly will
he done. My new story deals with a
force giving effects like gravity, but
not quite the same. I’m not ready for
f avity stories yet. A fictitious force
can prescribe rules for, but an ac-
tual, well known force, not for a while
will I tamper with on paper.
Harold Gibson,
Granger, Ind.
(We have an almost complete pic-
ture of his conception of our universe
presented to us in young Mr. Gibeon’s
letter. We are proud to have our
youthful readers such serious thinkers
on the problems of the cosmos.
Speaking on the possibility of re-
leasing atomic energy. Dr. Milliken
stated that it will come about not by
breaking down the atom, but by con-
structing atoms from others. In this
Mr. Gibson agrees — that the enerCT'
in the atom, possible to use, is not the
energy of the rushing electrons but a
difference of inherent energy released
when an atom of one element is
changed into another element. Thus
in his “Rescue From Jupiter,” Mr.
Gawain Edwards had his inventors
break down hydrogen and build up
nitrogen atoms.
Mr. Gibson is wi-ong in stating that
the electrons from a Coolidge tube
travel at 260,000 miles per second.
The figure, we believe, is 160,000
miles per second. — Editor)
Science Fiction Week—
Every Week!
Editor, Wonder Stories Quarterly:
I am writing this letter to express
my thanks to you for awarding me
the second prize in the second Quar-
terly contest. You may be sure I
appreciate the honor a great deal. . .
The check has enabled me to start
work upon my plans for next year’s
SCIENCE FICTION WEEK. I am
quite sure that you will co-operate
with me ag^in, and I hope that other
Science Fiction Magazines will do so
also. . .
You may be sure that I shall not
leave off my work toward improving
Science Fiction because I won the
prize, on the contrary, I am being
spurred on toward even greater ef-
forts. . .
Conrad H. Ruppert,
12 Hillside Court,
Jamaica, N. Y.
(We are sure that Mr. Ruppert will
continue his good work in behalf on
science fiction. But science fiction
week can be evenr week. By con-
stantly talking this new literature to
friends and relatives, they are con-
verted, and so like a snowball the
movement gains momentum. — Editor)
(Continued on Page 141)
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
141
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Be sure to read the interest-
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tion to ‘WONDER STORIES
QUARTERLY expires shortly.
The Reader Speaks
{Continued from Page 140)
A New Friend
Editor, Wonder Storiee Quarterly:
Tve heard of candy fiends and many
other types, but I am a new kind.
I’m a Wonder Stories Quarterly
fiend! And how can I help it with
that wonderful silver illustration on
the front drawn by Paul? You can’t
blame me.
It seems to me that every issue of
“our” Quarterly gets better (if such
a thing is possible as they are all per-
fect).
I am glad to see that Dr. Heller’s
story, “The Moon Rays” is in this
Quarterly as it was supposed to be
in the last one but was evidently
crowded out.
"The Eternal Man” was one of the
best short stories I ever read and I
am delighted to see that you have
secured a sequel to it.
Henrik Dahl Juve always writes
£^>od stories and “The Monsters of
Neptune” promises to be one of his
best.
AH of the other stories including
the sequel to “The Moon Conquerors”
and “Electropolis” are thrillingly il-
lustrated and I am sure will be very
exciting.
I want to thank you for taking my
sug£:estion of printing a list of mo-
tion pictures with scientific back-
grounds and would like to start off
your list with the followii^ two:
“High Treason” (a story of life, love
and war in the future) and Jules
■Verne’s “The Mysterious Island.”
And now, as usual, I would like to
ask you a question, or rather, two of
them.
First: How fast would it be nec-
essary to travel in order to always
see the son in the same position?
Second: If a man were to swallow
a piece of radium what would happen
to him? ‘Would he immediately
shrivel up and die or would it take
some time and if the radium were
left in his body what would become
of it? (the body).
Forrest J. Ackerman,
630 Staples Avenue,
San Francisco, Calif.
(We can add to Mr. Ackerman’s list
of motion pictures of science fiction,
“Metropolis” a story of the future
which was exhibited several years
ago, and “The Girl From the Moon”
the showing of which is promised to
America soon by UFA of Germany.
We would appreciate additions to this
list by our readers for the benefit of
all.
_ Regarding Mr. Ackerman’s ques-
tions — if a man were to travel west-
ward along the equator at 1,000 miles
an hour (approximately) he would
always see the sun in the same posi-
tion. If he started when the sun
were overhead, it would be perpetual
noon for him.
Radium would probably destroy
one’s bodily tissues and even the
bones. The use of radium in cancer
is based on the ability of radium to
eat out the cancer cell. ‘When
swallowed, of course, the radium
would eat up everything. Physically
at least the radium would break down
the tissue into its basic elements.
The time it would take would depend
on the amount swallowed. Death
might occur before any appreciable
amount of the tissue had been de-
stroyed. — Editor')
(Continued on Page 142)
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142
WONDER STORIES QUARTERLY
The How-and-Why
of Aircraft
in Plain English!
Articles by “Casey” Jones, Ut. Apollo Souoek, An-
thony H. Q. Fokker, and many other writers. In
this Invaluable book many Important and Interest-
ing chapters will be found on building model air-
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and fly gliders; also many practical hints on mo-
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working drawings.
Complete sectional drawings and illustrations
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Instructors as well as thousands of Junior avia-
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Bach issue contains complete description and
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The Reader Speaks
(Continued from Page 141)
Two Home Runs
Editor, Wonder Stories Quarterly:
The W S Q has made another home
run. It has produced a mastei^iece
in every issue. Otto Willi Gail is the
Babe Ruth on the Gernsback team.
His two famous home runs, “A Shot
in Infinity” and “The Stone from the
Moon” will never be forgotten in the
Science Fiction World and I hope our
young American authors will read and
learn how to write real stories. They
seem to have a good imagination but
they don’t seem to be aWe to “nail”
it down to scientific facts.
For example take Henrik Dahl
Juve’s “The Monsters of Neptune;” a
very ^ood story but it’s not “nailed”
on scientific facts. In his story he
overlooked the fact that the gravity
is 30 much greater than ours that
our explorers would be almost glued
to the ground and wouldn’t be able to
move.
The "Moon Conquerors" by R. H.
Romans is a very difficult story to
judge, the start or first part of the
story was perfect but my interest
dropped when he started to give some
Ancient History. But still it was bet-
ter than the average stories. I hope
he will give us a sequel to “The War
of the Planets.”
Read These Thrilling Stories
in the October Issue of
AMAZING DETECTIVE
TALES
on Sale September 16th
THE FLOWER OF EVIL
By C. R. Sumner
The dreadful power of a beautiful
blossom of Nature
THE MAN WHO WAS DEAD
By Arthur B, Reeve
Unlocking the dead man’s lips to
unravel a mystery
DEATH IN A DROP
By Ralph T7. Wilkins
Professor Macklin solves a new
impossible crime”
THE CLASP OF DOOM
By Eugene De Reszke
His touch was death . . .this mod-
ern Borgia
MURDER IN THE FOURTH
DIMENSION
By Clark Ashton Smith
The most bizarre murder ever
committed
THE MOST DANGEROUS OP
FORGERIES
By Dr. Edmond Locard
This famous criminoloffist gives us
the “inside story” of daring crim-
inals gambling with their skill for
fortunes.
And other stories and features in
this unusual issue
“Electropolis” by Otfrid von Han-
stein was perfect but he left enough
material to make a good sequeL 1
can hardly wait for his next story.
Why is it that you print only stor-
ies by American and German auth-
ors? How about the Russian, French
and English? Why not give them a
break, I know that they write won-
derful science fiction. Know it looks
like the Germans have the whole floor
to themselves — but understand, I’m
not tired of German goods— they’re
too good.
(Continued on Page 143)
JS YOU
asterF
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Y
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THE PELMAN INSTITUTE OF AMERICA
■ Suite 225B . 71 West 45th' Street, New York City
Offices in London, Paris, Stockholm, Delhi,
Dtirban and Melbourne
The Pelman Institute of America
Su.te225B ,71 West 45th Street,
New York City
Please send me without obligation your free book^
“Scientific Mind Training.” This does not place me under i
obligation and no salesman is to call on me.
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